Poetic 4 Existence

RE-Animated

2012-02-29T09:49:00.001-08:00

High Priestess

2012-02-28T22:58:00.004-08:00

By the utter grace of your sole vocal
My echoing high priestess
Your bosoms erect in their shout to the sky
I faintly recall the summoning
The will of concord into element
Stress is the cloud, thunder it's belly
Cracks, Shatters, Bursts, and breaks
Beads upon beads in the downpour of your blue
Your undefinable bounty that covered the town
Reigned by the rains that left me minimal

A Seperate Peace

2012-02-28T22:08:00.001-08:00

We are waves upon an ocean of change
Elements asphyxiate and inevitably strain
Stretch and leave a hopeful heart wondering why it came
Metamorphosis strolls with a silver cane

I sing my song and battle on from Lebanon to Babylon
To airs of Europe, London’s song
This line that laughter leads upon

I stand, demanding nothing that but time to trust me
In this state of saturation and separate study
We retain our differences
In high supply by winter winds
Whose house I tread, which element
I look to see whose face this is
Whose feet stomp beats and break the clean
Whose words weave substance through the screen
Of rectified or righteous means, I play the card and suddenly scream
I leave the club and stumble seek, the soul whose song will comfort me

So long I’ve been the backdoor seat, the seventh son, the bastard seed
The black crow’s caw that soon recedes, the dying shout that catches need
The child of drought who lives to breath, the oxygen of space proceeds
The second hand that clocks repeat, The sediment of centuries

A feverish ache a leaden bead
That falls in debt of waters deed
Of closing cases, LEDS
That play themselves to memories
Turned off to show their dark retreat
A voyage that is stark repeat
To carry trust and triumph seas
I’ve left unto a greater deed
I've gone again don't look for me
I’ve singled out a separate peace

I NEED TO DREAM

2012-02-28T15:37:00.000-08:00

I NEED TO DREAM
TO LEARN TO LEAD
TO LIVE TO LOVE
TO LEARN TO LEAVE

I NEED TO DREAM
OF NETHER SHORES
AND CAST AWAY
FROM ALL THESE CHORES

I NEED TO DREAM
MUCH MORE THAN WAR
I NEED TO SEE
THAT I AM MORE
AND LEAD A LIFE IN WHICH I'M HOME
IN DREAMS IN WHICH IM FREE TO ROAM

MY FEET AND WORLD
MY STRENGTH AND TIME
I NEED TO SEE ITS WHOLE DESIGN
I NEED TO LEAVE ITS ALWAYS RIGHT
AND RECOGNIZE THIS DREAM AS MINE

AND IN THIS DREAM THIS SPACE COLLIDES
AND WHAT WAS SORRY SEEMS TO RISE
AND WHATS FORGOTTEN GLEAMS SUPRISE
AND ALL MY SORROWS LEAVE AND DIE

THIS DAY THIS HOUR A DREAM WAS BORN
AN IMAGE I WILL SOON EXPLORE
ENCHANTMENT THAT HAS LEFT ME HIGH
I DREAM A TIGHTROPE IN THE SKY

Back in The Game

2012-02-17T10:29:00.000-08:00

Ditch It
negative thinking

Mellow it out
tight attitude

Stay Clean
Stay Focused
Stay Active
Rest Steadily

Swoosh

At the Barrels Bottom

2012-02-15T09:05:00.000-08:00

" If you find yourself lost and struggling at the murky bottom of a barrel, sometimes it is best to wade and wait for the rain to lift you towards the top "

Stuck, slow, and stiff. Treading in a pool lacking any character or quality. A cool breeze, cold & numb feet, an immobile mass. Well, I'm tired of arranging what never gets clean. Near delirium torn without hands or feet. Haven't been known to exist so low. This cigarettes ember is the light of life. It's burn weaves down a straight white edge into a territory merely labeled, still unexplored.

"Should've, Would've, Could've," Desiring the lightness of the breeze but I'm to heavy to be moved by it. Laden with thoughts to appease what is thoughtless. Then.. a tingle & a breath; I'm stil susceptible. Keep it, hold on... at this point nothing can wear thin. A motion of a grindstone, but a movement none the less. Breath, finally a shuffle of the trees. This weight shuffles with but hardly shifts, mellows, or even bats an eye. This disguise has been melting into something less vague, and well.. it's something.

When trees never seem so hallow, I feel so indisputably sick and worn, tired. Well think, no, just settle at the bottom of a barrel where the wood bears no crack and the water is stagnant with the bite of dead fish. Time takes quality so it's a guess when restraint clicks & doesn't take time. Redefinition

Ron Paul did alright in Maine. He barely missed Romney and previously in Minnesota the snow unfroze the vote of many. I'll be here yet again without capacity or conclusion; with boxes & bindings and quotes. I walk with this cigarette held up by a limp limb, without question, just an uneasy crescent of not wanting it to end, not soon, allow me to be so I may redeem my luster for life, rather than ideas about it. The tobacco smoke reminds me that the flame is never fully extinguished.

The mits are off, my soul is stagnant, and my feet soles are frigid and numb. I step into the yard and let go of what hasn't floundered, the flame is extinguished yet I'm still here allowing myself to live. I walk past the threshold and close the door. It isn't a feat, it's a step, a step that is marked but left for another to measure.

I enjoy the beauty of a gate rusted shut, a board game without the potential of pieces to move, the flowing waters that drip into a sewer grate, & an abandoned building echoing the footsteps of a single ghost, feeding off yesterdays dust.

2-2-12 Fear

2012-02-15T08:42:00.000-08:00

Fear exists because I don't understand something.
I haven't experienced it directly, and haven't encountered it continiously. If I'm very afraid of something I begin having nightmares and unwarrented thoughts. These are abstractions to an actual experience. For a simple example, I might develop a shyness to the cold as it bites my tender skin. Anybody would tell you that to feel sensitive to the cold is a natural response, but if I haven't understood this myself I might think myself to have an alien quality towards the cold and become afraid to experience it.

Fear is only an abstraction, it's a shadow of an experience we are still hesitant to get to know. Fear is not a foe so don't make an enemy out of it. A fighter's whip can give his arm farther reach, thrust, and velocity, and also focus these forces upon it's tip; In the same way fear can be handled as an extension of myself, a pointer of what to understand, and perhaps a hint of how to approach that very same fear.

Journal 11-04-11 Choices and Decisions

2011-11-04T13:14:00.000-07:00

I'm brought into submission by the quiet fact that repeatedly stares me in the face, the choices I make reflect the outcome I perceive. And these choices, there aims, intents; From where do they come? Are they my own need for more? weather it be relaxation, food to eat, pleasant surroundings etc. Or do they emerge from a deeper purpose, to be of service , to advocate the changes my deeper self longs to see?

It's very easy to be misconstrued, even forget the faces of those I'm talking too. It's difficult to be an individual that is often alone and pick and choose. Sometimes so many thoughts fill my head that I don't know which is essential. I wonder, do I have the courage to say what needs to be said, to take the necessary action? I know that I do, and that the universe provides accordingly to our actions and thoughts. Than why is choosing a path and direction so difficult? Perhaps because it seems to disclude the things I have already known and loved, the weight of one dream weighing another. Perhaps it is leaving an illusion of consistancy amongst ever-shifting conditions that shape me. I know that I have talents which I've placed value upon in the past, writing and it's articulation there of, a willingness to explore, and also a compassion for others. I also am aware of faults that hinder these principles, stubbornness, self-deception, becoming distracted and making the same mistakes.

I know that my life here is to serve a purpose and that this purpose result continues if I work with it rather than against it, even surrender to it's outcome throughout. I feel because we are always changing it's important to have a skill as a measure of consistency, or a basis of our actions. This skill for me seems to be learning planting and growth to eventually organically grow my own nourishment. This post fits more under a journal entry than poetry, but it's time for a change of pace on this bright afternoon. Until next time.

Peace & Love

Time's Flying By

2011-11-03T19:31:00.000-07:00

All the time time is passing, flying, fleeing into living
I ask to be forgiven from judgement, criticisms
I fight take flight and fumble, try to be perfect and stumble
Hey I recognize you too in this interwoven jungle
That sometimes is a struggle, a journey like a movie
I find myself distracted by the beauty and it's cruelty

I hope to live it grateful, I hope to make it happy
I hope to know and have to hold so many friends and family
Your presence here it matters, your mind your eyes their fabric
From dreaded to ecstatic, purposeful and manic
This life is what we give it, our share of what's been handed
In youth I thought that truth lay in the burning of both candles

I hope to live it grateful so at the end I'm not left stranded
With less than love and laughter, a smile that is candid
I'm called by sense of purpose, I'm let go in humility
I look again and comb the map for soils of fertility
No folding to futility cause life is too short
To leave your sweet unique face from the image of my thoughts

I've already made a difference in the life's of friends and family
I see off in the distance the flowers of humanity
The flavors of a time frame, the work and also migraines
But all and all the freedom of the fruits in choices I've made
So let this please make my day, Envelop and define it
Signed and sealed in honesty and all that's backed behind it

Times Flying

Let's be Free & Joyous

2011-10-10T16:13:00.000-07:00

Lets keep speaking until the silence breaks like shattered ice

Lets speak up about the faith and fictions we feel

Talking on the cusp of wind, the cup of life is carried

Freedom is not contained in words, in booklets, or actions

Freedom is your very self and all that surrounds

Wholly Free Let Us Be

Living Long Lives In Peace

Lonesome Roads

2011-09-20T15:33:00.000-07:00

Lonesome road abridged by empty
Leaving trails both hungry heavy
Living on a single sentence
Eyes blink back relapsing heaven

... Stretching further, proper penance
Diving into un-tossed leaven
Feelings prosper, leave in seconds
Here I stand a lonesome peasant

Work with none to furnish fancy
Clenched fists with none too happy
All the signs negate the proof
Mirrors stare dead into you

Smiles are for the ripe and free
Roads are for the young and smooth
Lips are for the kissing booth
Deeds are for the well to do

Unclasped the cap from foreign pen
It's speaks it nerves in stuttered ink
I move and dive and write and think
These weighted lives of hefty things

Flourished cheeks on lonesome roads
Single Shrubs shelter the earth
The ray of sun beats down on minds
That see the substance hard to find

We walk and pace these dusty trails
Awake, At rest, and Half way home
The distant calls of faded past
Brings back a longing to our bones

Vision of Angels

2011-09-13T23:46:00.000-07:00

Two worlds converge through the format of space
This sacred dance is seen by the angels
Seated in wondrous absolution
Seeing the creator as sustainor
Sweet spirits billions miles backwards
Know this benediction by and through rupturing currents

A holy daydream
Asking, what casts truth unto waves, this love proclaimed
Let us all sheer our pencils to lead, fearlessly usher our procession ahead
And know this is all ever existing.
I answer it's undying urge and say back to you
All in good time, good time within itself.

Seeker becoming Sought

2011-09-13T22:09:00.000-07:00

Pure snowflakes melt in the sun
Pomegranates burst by half heavy labor
Butter melts atop burnt bread, soaking each crevice
Tongues meet the sauteed synergies of flavor
Carrots to cook bask in a still pot
Loneliness elevates by a kind gentle touch
Depravity washes south in an intimate caress
Developing souls sore to the peak of ones before
the butter and bread create flavor, carrots tossed to the side of a dish
The snowflakes cool trickle soothes parched lands
Hunger meets the absorption of a meal
Clasps & cringes dissolve through kindness
The pen soaks calligraphy into page once empty of creativity
Signing a statement of nonesuch
Seeing the seeker become sought

Journal 09-12-11

2011-09-12T09:19:00.000-07:00

Flux fingers. Everthing is in such a turmoil of change for me. Sometimes in night the realization is os intense and both feet bask in the sun. Now I don't know, waking up I'm staring at the face of pieces broken. Within is something so mighty it sews the planet to space. I can't comprehend even a fraction of it. I just understand that each day more and more I see myself in things, there is this incredible vibration that trumps matter making it look shaky and distant.

What worries me often is the large gap in the concsiousness of myself and other people. For me if peace is to be it will be instantaneous, arising out of my own totallity, my own consciousness. For others it seems a sequence or series of events is needed, a sense of accomplishment. These are fragments, however that which is real slips my own comprehension. It can only be gaulked at and half explained, really it is much more than words can describe. Many great teachers understand and speak to inact the conscience of the listener, and guide him through a series of feelings and mental process in order to come to a clear gap, a steep cliff, in which to finally jump out into the unknown.

But this realization today has me feeling average, this waking up day in and out has me untied from ambition. I feel normal, I feel unamused, I feel without motive. What significance do my actions have? What have they ever had? What is important? Why am I here?
Do these questions find completion in every day living or I'm a segmented in action and completion?

Experimentation seems to be an option to go by, go out and live in these ways, joint these unattached portions with seeing/labeling/perception. Grow from these questions in the right way. I can feel so stuck in the mud with past knowledge caked to my grin. I can waver for an hour and a half without so much a consequence , it's time to spring into buisness. It's time to live no matter how unbearable it may be. Ask who you concern when you act, is it born from self love, or is it born from arrogance, vanity?

In the Woods

2011-09-08T21:17:00.000-07:00

Ever quiet as a softly beating drum
The hearts thump magnified by ear
Mosquitoes drawing red nectar
On a concurrent stream
Scattered leaves laid waste
Flowers bride the sloped sides
Stretching 'cross as slender bridge
Partnered with peace & patience
A look leads to heavy delight

Approaching my peripheries
An animal large, swift, and hungry
Nibbling leaves, lightly snacking
In curiosity drawing closer
Elongated ears seek answers
Who is this guest in my woods?
I smile slowly not to scare
How amazing this is!

I love it here
Feeling natures responses
Wholly joyful in new findings
Alas to emerge from retreat
Slinging my bag across shoulders
This leaving is richer than coming
Footprints stamp the lone earth
Marking a pathway back home

The story of all unfolding from an empty will

2011-09-02T00:23:00.000-07:00

Asleep at the wheel
I drifted through worlds as many as thread
I awoke to see how beautiful my creation was
There is no god, no character, all along only me
What happened? Time arose
Worlds were stepping stones recalled in it's memory
Faded now in the distance

Rants on Loves Essence

2011-08-30T17:43:00.000-07:00

I close my eyes, long back, days, years, months stretch, I stated & had started this quest.

Cool silence, so tranquil, safe from the world. The heart lie under a thatched roof that may not get hot in the breeze and not grow wet under storm. I smile because I am hardly here, not nearly disturbed, distant from the phenomenal world. Silent is wrapping my mood as a child would feel in a cozey blanket or a baby in mother's womb. I am the arched plant enjoying gentle rain, shielded from the suns burn by rolling clouds, harboring trickling water through the stem, branching out to rejuvenate it's limbs.

Alas there is peace in a world of all conflicting
Here and now there is no boundary between me and that calm bounty
Peace has shown it's face
It's mellow eyes of light, soft stroking hands, gosling hair, taming the waves of this experience
Creating harmony, glowing, fragrant, with a soft smile
Happy nor sad, a cupped pair of hands permeable to water
Giving & receiving, foraging to let go, emerging & receding a running spring
Recycling, to and from the same source...

~~~

From this limited perspective, love is a strange thing, refuting label, needing no premise, only a gap, a tint, a space of silence to enter and expand, intoxicate & clarify. I feel, that in this love the battling worlds may merge & meet, there bellows & storms will ease and prosperity will reach full fruition. This love is strange, it has wrung me dry of pestilent sorrow, it has torn the limbs of jealous disapproval, while impregnating the seeds of humble patience. It has forsaken me with a prodding sting of these elements so I may know purification. Though I speak, it is not for teachings sake, nor praise, it is as a child gazes towards a lightly draped pool of lilies, that pull away so he may see his reflection skimming the water's depths. Imminent beauty, still lasting waters laying me to rest in the deepest corridors of blue.

Hands fold in prayer that collapse in persecution
In pains & pangs we leave our sheltered abodes
Through tepid plains and rolling hills
Hardened imagery and verbal quicksand
Wide & Far we March & Maneuver ...

There is a garden yet choked by weed
Whose plants poise perfection, and do not dissolve come winter
It is a field sewn by personal sorrow, with seed cracked to budding
In quiet tears, mute voices, and words unspoken
Occasionally we revisit this garden
To find solace, rest, and everlasting peace

In the bird laying song to the morning wind
We may hear a note of it's cool splendor
As a flowers fragrance exalts the air
But a touch of it's scent may greet us
In these aspects, a glistening garden can come into view

In the summers sparkling sun
In the first folly of spring season
In the impermanence of autumn leaf
In the cold crackle of winter chill
Each grants us opportunity, to again see anew

To see change as participle of growth
To see birth and death flourish the same
In moments like these we return
To those green shrubs withstanding time
Imperishable and always alive

I know that this poem will be torn by the flow of time
By hungry hands or face of impedance famished for truth
But it's message contained shall never foul, or spoil, or fade, or die
For it is free of time and transience
Born of transcendent impulse
It is a flower in this garden of love

A Letter to Myself

2011-08-27T10:58:00.000-07:00

Calm in collecting my thoughts, There is no quiet matching that of a poet in the woods. Less his mind speak in arrangement. Here, each tree gives it's life to the land, leaves scatter the ground as a blanket would in colors of brown grey & olive. With feeling hardly stirred it is like a breaths subtle intake. I wonder, Is this seeking of reclusion just to find resonance? I look down & see old aims & goals tatter a mind. Life has shown me many things, may it never show me to be dull. As I relax in the shade of the idea to be a cosmonaut sent to ease the world-weary. Truth be told I don't know. With half a tear I think that one could find a home here amongst the oak & ash trees. Although in these days it's my acceptance that you must keep a balance between either or, in & out of establishment and nature, and it is such how the spirit moves. Form to formless, Uniformed to untied.

It grows darker amongst these creatures of wooden stature. But I wanted to write. Blessed be the soul with endurance to brave itself out. I see a long pathway ahead that will pass in an eyes blink. May the moments produce wealth for myself, my friends, and all spheres of life.

Written in Service,

Matt Earley

The pelting drops hang upon torrents
While rooftops deflect the running waters
We keep our hands folded in prayer
Drifting through these layers of storms
Our focus has gifted us wings to ride the storm;
Ascend clouds to collide with the widening sky
Finally to merge, like a cloud letting down rain
For earth to soak and swim
Sun to scoop and precipitate
The puddles dry, evaporating towards the sky
So we find freedom
Being one with the cycles of change

Deliverence

2011-08-23T08:36:00.000-07:00

I look close, on the blended preordained

My seeing eyes do naught but receive

Like clockwork is the machine human

Whose second beauty is last found within

Deliverance, oh sons & daughters of Abel

A tourniquet solider has come upon you

It's lips curl stanzas, feet march forwards

Creeks of black velvet, surpassing sullen mistake

Sacral ember, deep voiced & meritorious

You calculate nothing, simply switched to working

Your hand strung synapses deny white noise

Music witnessing it's own composition, enlivened

Never have I stepped on ground so abundant

Never have I seen a lake reflect so impartial
What do these two mirrors adjacent perceive?
Beauty of an alter element, finessing tables of periodic

The Spoils of Sprit

2011-08-22T02:27:00.000-07:00

Spoils of the sprit ooze through toils of the lyrics
Broadcast to the masses but a funny few adhere it
Earlier thinking on lines of self improvement, utilizing fullness of my being
White moon
Now in basics, beauty.
A comprehension of which lets the cumb drop to the floor
The tip of my mouth has forsaken words
Works are made from the impeccable silence
Solitude, service, even slavery
It's odd how we prevaricate the unharnessed dark
Sex without a partner
These are the effects of meditation

Point a finger at the moon, an eye to the sun
By all intricacy of silk sound & air
What borders life I'll follow with a red laced bag
Picking up parchments and artifacts to show others
Already my pace is a thousand leeps ahead
Those turtles stuck in the sand resemble home
Constant, for them, the brisk lay nowhere
I'll find something forever in the ever shifting
This hill I climb that kicks up dirt and exhales slumber
Foreign, distant, but much closer to history
If my mind unlatch than I may see it for it's worth

What borders life i will follow
Never faltering to bridge it's center to loose endings
Delving & Diving, I won't forget this impulse
Bridges require effort, extraneous and even stupid
But when a machine is self automated
A floor requires supervision, instinction, instruction
& often times conjunction

Love is the awakener, it's force rifts & spits
Taking risks, most often get off, covet gain, forget loss
If I were to say abandon both for the bounty, each country
Relies on another for contrasting works of wonder
Some summation others plunder, each and all receive wet thunder
Tides relinquish there waves to each shore, don't you see a sort of unity
A piece of puzzled eulogy, this type text get's confusing

Cracks Burns & Bruise, worn down tennis shoes
Good to spin and more to use, infallible detail
Printed papers of the news worldly woes & self abuse
Were developing so don't designate the death lazers quite yet
We take leaps and bounds with the stages lost
So what if it's a game, I'm still playing catch
So you say it's a dream from a space that has slept

And to awaken with effort is to push forward reset
Remain & accept, enlighten forget
Forge the polished whims to whimsical things
I'm wasted tasting on the fragrance of a day wholly lived
Drop a borrowed W, leave an L to forget

Embracing Death's Grasp

2011-08-21T11:55:00.000-07:00

A gentle corresponding touch
A wreathed hand, and coarse throat
A tender friend for guidance
Death knocks and perches to wait
He tells you, Fear not, fear not!

Black garments entice to scare
Buried beneath is a subtle hand
This is a passage to travel
Dismounting from one worn steed
Worry not, Come swift and calm!

This robed stranger requires you
Lace his hand and plot a new land
You will know it and again smile
You will know it and again be shy
In your rejoicing with this character
Again you will be made young!

Soilders & Sunrise

2011-07-21T23:55:00.001-07:00

Wielding wayside solders

Traveling, intrenched by the field

Through instructive instinct

Inert at enemies expense, posted within

Boast towards the image of

Victories battled to ends bitter

Melancholy field starched with snow

In the cold troops fail to recognize

There I am coursing tied borders

Lending my eyes to traverse each aim

Patriotism, merit, investments to flourish

This weighted world each of empty pockets

An insidious gaze breaks stare

Gunshots ricochet from ideals to rail flesh

Shelled mortars concave actualizing graves

In which fresh horror feeds itself fat

Men meet death prior to it's realization

Night shadows sketched by moons mass

It wanes, gone in grace, the sky is dark

Your sought and treasured kingdoms the same

Wars' ripe rose conceived through prospect

It's poignant pedals feverishly wilt

Remaining a rooted ornament of thorn

Spiraling fingers around it's savored curse

We bleed, we die, and perish

Never knowing the pink light of dawn

Just a Creative Spur, The heel swings left.

2011-07-11T22:52:00.000-07:00

God... Removed.. From... Existance...

Not even. I walk and romp and flow. Seeing god in all living beings. We just need attention and friendship in order to grow in the flow. Believe in ourselves before the scores of heros that litter our thoughts. It's about us. It's about you. You are the most important player, if your scared you'll ease into it, slowly tap away at that solid fear, and find your own unique approach to the problem.
We are friends to existence. It needs us as we need it. Quite equally. Don't doubt in your potentials.
And... Fill the universal with your antiquity, you shy sun, you'll learn the steps I'm assured of it.

07-07-2011 Notes

2011-07-06T23:28:00.000-07:00

Like your anger is permanent your granting it the time to germinate straight worries me
So were playing with perceptions they've been composted
Set your mind free suddenly love unfolded
A mansion for players & ballers a syndicate
Bleed for resonance, strain of intelligence
Transparency tips us as to heavens directions
Opening the white noises to fortresses
Innumerable doors await, to venture or waste
The empty halls open in our woven perception
Who needs it the personality caged in desire
Enraged when on fire, behaved while inspired
To coordinate the truth takes time & experience
End times were nearing so it's work turned serious
I enjoy writing & hyping up the blasphemous beat

From the frontal rimmed cortex to the bunny ears
Multi-Dimensional Vortex to moistened fears
*it's sincere, it's sincere)
Inspired by the songs that don't seem confrontational
Bilingual language that is stretching alms to the globe beyond curious nations
Beauty in expansion fission of the lighter flame
"Wish I weaved a tighter wig when it comes to this writing game"
NO need we read intention in this little hollow
Lost along the edge we may swallow
We cry for the dreaded like sorrow wed with wax and grit
Blasphemous as it sounds I rebound both my candle sticks
Sick stench implement, Love life's acknowledgement
Beauty blend like polished wit, heightened highs as chronic hits
SWOOSH
Let them talk while I plot my chart mark my maps
I remember my mistake & document known mishaps
Lapping their tongue in a begging bowl remain malnourished
Step into spheres of suns, rely on regions of rains
Nothing remains the same, all falls to profane
Until my task is done, Until masks are removed
All be living this day as though theirs nothing to loose
And I wrote this to sooth me & you, bridge of true
Even the weight of words shifts in time and world
I may just let the wholly light take me
ZZZZZZ

Does one Feel Lonely Not?

2011-06-29T22:06:00.000-07:00

Does one feel lonely not?
I ask in the form of know
tick tap tap
tap tap tick
On wooden ventricles

Does one feel lonely not?
When the heart aches
When the mind seethes
When the stomach cramps

Is one lonely not?
From unexpressed joy
Inability to fall and prey
At fine altar of ones own feet

Does one feel lonely not?
Not when lead breaks
Or ink beads dry
But at hearts curtained chambers

Is one lonely not?
In deep midst of crowd
Whose eyes crave to see
Only through method impossible

Does one feel lonely?
When reflecting time spent
In quiet with heart generous
Astray from all folds of friendship

On this heart, a bell rings
By ways of old history
Below the gaps of dark
Laid mute for light

In the quiet night
Infinity stretches unanswered
Dormant longing songbird
Echoing it's sole vocals

The song strikes a chord
Vibrant, to lift a great imposition
Trail & misfire
Amongst suited error

Slicing the sentence of senses
Folding day into dawn
Blank love to full meaning
Unexpressed talent to orchestra

A friend to existence
Need travel no farther
In hearts open company
Does one feel lonely not?

House of Mystery

2011-06-10T22:16:00.000-07:00

God clocks spun in the minds of men
Pierced Passion that designed the pen
Okay Go So the Eye Begins
Un-sewn Cloth, Design the Hems
Ahead of the curve
Silver Suit Steed Sat
All within this house of mystery

With a willful work & a sharpened lance
Unearthly universal energy
My being, the being
All things give rise and take
It's taste, silently blissful
Foolish and nondescript
To die for...

Treasured Haikus

2011-05-26T11:41:00.000-07:00

Soft & Pure night
Lying awake in it's cool depths
Rain drops hold love

Alight by moons mass
I'm forever indebted
Humbling of night

Time spills limit
Comparison falls and leaves
Precautions split

Stampeding horse
Even you have stopped to drink
Pure minds nectar

Infinite frames
Refreshed before abandon
This is true life

Flame and flow one
Embellished by negation
Here lies full peace

~*~

Computerized Future

2011-05-22T14:15:00.001-07:00

I am a frenzied species
No end to my royal kingdom
Exalted by bandwidth of concaving lux
Dead eyes and stained lungs
Concrete and steel dicotemy
Manufactured imagry
Stung by fluids gasoline
Stuctured by electricity
Void of all simplicity

Future and it's means to breath
Future spelt without the BE
Coming soon as noon retreats
Catelogs craft all we see
Purple poistures bloom reciepts
Conflict costly struggle cheap
Indoctronate cells memories
Mathematic melodies
Dampened down for cryofreeze

Revolutions timely breed
Loses water dies as seed
A cry proceeds as lucid leaves
Damp as icicles dry as reed
As life is lived on passions curve
And science sims what will deserves
While each and all that will to work
Will earn a tune up and a twerk

Don't you see the narrowness?
As a window of our time
To find a stem that sources all
Immancipate the mind, is love so hard to find?
Is faith in such a bind, is all of you refined?
Processed and designed, programmed into time
Through tangents and cosigns
If yous a soul than cruise control
Cease to be an option,unplugging from the matrix
The metropolis indoctrinated, comes toppling

I wonder oh to often if we'll figure love unplugged
Before the drugs of war and worlds and words of untrust
I wonder oh to often if we wish to travel free
Beyond below between, above afar beneath
Reality alludes occurrences pollute
Sleeping at the wheel of a quickly burning fuse
Analysis of mind making Frankenstein of wire
Privacy rebuked for a fiber-optic fire
Number as principal, screenshots as proof
Someone will whisper, we've got something to lose

Encoded Dillution and Mixed Bag of Everything

2011-05-20T22:49:00.000-07:00

Let it all be in the way it is, adhere to this, uninsured conflict
What can I solve, I'll switch the level
Fire burns on brick just to heat the metal
Solid is stainless, established, fluid as feeling, ether as ecstasy, gaseous as a killing

In delect in delight I verse my thirst prepared for white
As a god given right I chase the wolves away in night
Crested type wheedle wires tranquil peace leashed desire
As a creator I am willed, as an object I am zilch

Perhaps I point to truth in the dezins of arithmetic
Written lips equipped with this as elemental synthesis
In paying mind to simpleton I'm weary with regret
Sliding slither from the frets while the resonator slept

This is a game of shape, word, symbol & pause
Cold rain and a syndicated spindle of clock
What stays sharp will find it's way unto flat
Obsessions with the skinny grants predominance to fat

My mind is lineated, consciences destiny, ridden with complexity
Finished in trajectory, spinach filtered melodies, saintly gaps
That sect the seas, with all this said I cease to breath
The sprouted seed, and future leaves, and like the sun I do
recede a passing perch, a dying weed

Alive in greed lets face the fact, distribute by dim cataracts
My heart is ache, my push is fade, no charity to save the day
The song replies & I adore to recollect the day before
To introspect our timely needs and roll & flux as space proceeds
to wrap and drench the hand that feeds, a lonely man amongst the free
a closet closed with stolen key, a jury lacking defendee,
a child cheat from rosy cheeks
A mixed up bag of everything.

Many Forms and Shapes of the Moon

2011-05-18T12:54:00.000-07:00

Desert Sands Eclipse
The moon forms a lit tongue
That speaks it's soft incandescent
Of powerful struggle moving masses backwards
While it's circumference fuses to transform
Shift and unshape, stretch in ways most abstract
Yet majestic, spiraling timelines with hollow imagery
Enticing the wants of spirits consumed
Swallowed souls through & through
Form the deathly hallowed eyes, the lips quantum screech

I sense you as a king seated in the sun
A spoke of loves wheel-full spin; moving center
This god awful creation spawns, laying it's hand, drenching unease
A victim, no, a piece, a counter piece

That transfuses tonality and color; It's atmospheric odor glues hearts shawl
Heating degrees during a nights walk; blending hearts spoils unto itself

But the moon, all pervasive steals the sun and refracts it unclean
The culminating higher force, feeds fat in enchantment, than wholly disperses
It is not new when light again comes, highly aware of our comfort it pumps
Horror to edge us into madness. It's center unaltered from flowers withered.

The undead may be moved, tricked

Observant I watch it's crescent all but dissolve

Pearling from the light of distant stars

Waiting in waning and waxing

An enticing robber, with that borrowed light

it's altar decorates the skies height

I pear at the hanging rocks surge and retreat

Entrance me no more

Shift not my ways of living

Entrance me no more

{Phantom Moon))))))

The Mighty Ocean

2011-05-16T09:41:00.000-07:00

I am the stream without drop

the flow that never fell into friction

the transparent river, supported by the ripple-less lake

To follow me one must leave, cast away

things of girth, to witness my hollowness

things of beauty, to explore my murkiness

things of pride, to adore my emptiness

things of definition, to plunge my abyss

Without tools of floatation, follow me

Fall into me and be immersed

for from my stream, one will meet the river

whose uproarious urge, draws, like a magnet the mighty ocean

It is in this endless beginning, this endless scope pristine

that can bridge both shores alike

Nature as Endless Open Being

2011-05-07T05:15:00.000-07:00

Listening is a skill that goes on deepening
Sometimes I feel there is so little to say
My voice has grown rough anyway
I place my stiff led to sweep across this page
In broad streaks it brings the essence of the age
With a melody, no, a memory
Of what was & never was, yet is always so
How could the raw root not grip an impulse to grow
The way natures made out to be, rarely it's seen
In it's full depth of scenery, sun soaked purpose
Today I found resolve in how deep the dirt lives
I'd like to be like it, mulching, keeping the climate
Worms and flowers rebuke calming my swift lit fuse
Because it's service we use, properly lack in returning
It's incredible what grows with no tension or yearning
Your edibles, vegetables, in silence at night
It's wild charm takes an arm with a dynasties might

Standing alive at it's sight, one's left to think as a sole
Clouds crack shatter and burst, flooding the river and roads
Imagine the bounty when the pain stops
And wicked brains with young hearts feel a fresh rain drop
And cold density as living linen mercury
Fresh breath kept bursting beauty in diversity
Burning energies divine in the height of the sun
Now the fighting is done one stands influenced by love
From many to one, for plenty signed by the few
The pathways merge on the mountain
Whose peak stays hidden from view
Sensing the simplest truth, a fruit of the summit
Resting wholly in proof, all originate from it
Nature knowing no limit, subtle space without end
In transmutation I write from the depths and again
The wind swings from the trees, airing the flame hot and white
Homage in the witness, sensation births me to life

Pan Flute Flow

2011-05-03T22:06:00.000-07:00

Boy I swear I cannot manage the eternally savage

That swerve from there bad habits that germ in the addict

I said it seems too see through my eyes catch everything

Back into the eye rus blank papyrus Supplied us...

With a motive and means, I could run out a stream

Do you see what I mean. Oigo ve Oigo Ve

Now check whose got something more to say

To add to the tone turned to monotonous

I could resurrect bones on my fossil disk

Now I'm zoned, uniformed, in a form

Can you pixalate the eye of the storm

Can you stone the spirit who has survived turmoil

I sit with the sticks and I sink in the soil

That had grown grey gravy, Kissed Green Gaia

Sift Down Hit round mixed stiff saliva so that Imma

I'm the illest, I proudly proclaim

Cause earth's fertile turfs have denounced my name

So I stand stone, on the throne of the kings

That speak in a stance something they've yet live

Something so mean I have yet to forgive

Something so mild it's not even a sting

And the pan flute beacons, it calls me out

To reverberate and rain down in a drought

I can't figure out what will poise the bend

Shit

Aint it funny how us meager men

Get to fighting get so frightened

Fire Lightning Washing waves of Peace

Constrict the sore till it tore the lease

Well this ones tossed to breeze

And the other whole piece sanctumed to the sea

I remove the plea, lose my luck of key, not guilty

Of the webs we weave, not guilty of the webs we weave

Of the webs Of the webs.. SO DESINOUS

Did I mention they are an extension

Of the slide show, divine show, I breath, exhale,

Time ticks set sails, did you notice through the whiskey breath, the journey isn't finished yet, the function of the ocean depths is to save the weary sole that lept.... floundered from his seat, into the sea of secrets kept, feeling the frigid, turned black in a minute, back to no limits, no limits, no limits, Forever Steady SINKING

The Agonizing Dissoulution is Compassions Force

2011-04-24T23:08:00.001-07:00

Love is a clear inferno
A white flame at the hearts epicenter
That manifests as different colors
to different persons and cultures
at different time and dimensions
in different states
Even the oldest soul who has seen things vile and putrid
Who has played with thoughts of death and living is conquered

Sometimes my deeper self is discouraged
It sees the predicament of people through the trials one has gone through
The ravaging seas of death and sorrow, the stone calloused indifference, the suppression
They do not see it, they do not understand the magnitude of this simple thing. I write from the womb of my own silence. There are those who I am connected with in consciousness, those thems are you with both stems removed. This attitude of sacrifice and the blending of ones qualities. This hearts center that stretches in from beyond all things. It's creatures... can I not save one from the suffering of loving? I was once blind with this compassion, but I know I cannot speak of it, I place it here and there so I can assimilate it privately later. The innocence of the human spirit has been persecuted & murdered. So strong it strengthens itself in the look of another mountain, another containment, it crosses each canyon as though it had a bleeding urgent message.

Yes.. it's too much but never enough
My time and my energy are devoted towards her/she
She heightens my sense and abilities
The ache in my body and eyes quake
And my sincere sadness extends itself
Like molten lave from the bellows
Speaking like a broken old beggar
I outreach my frail hand with whimpering voice
"In my dreams I see you, In my dreams I see you"
Sick of the torn rags that burden my soul
I throw them in the fire of your sacrifice
The ground melts and again I fall
Into bottomless abyss, you want to destroy me
Well.. I best let go

Poets Congregate on Skype

2011-04-03T22:05:00.000-07:00

J: I cant ignore this whore, who thrashes floors of density into my flesh deep
punches of rich thick old blood through the water clarity
J: such a fucken parody i swing my eyes ludicrous and done
M: Blood clotted in the iris, what I think manifests on papyrus
M: With a sensual sense of secret a soft and feminine
M: wishing to resolve individual flaws
J: breeding with festering blackness alive and thriving in vibrational heat. swimming to infest. diving to invest a love of the slimiest
J: stuck in the individual stuck in the individual
M: never stuck in this construct, never taken and forsaken as long as your vibrating
J: chorus
M: but the bottom of the muck is as fair as the heavens, so whats the difference?
J: with owl eyes abrasive blues long and cool legs
M: I sing the blues songs and strum upon a loose peg
J: but children and marching men inside of your psyche will charge at you, taken aback into crack worlds
J: pearls alone, blues on beach chairs, red cramming objects in cavities
M: yellow and lonesome pulled into clarity, the strange sting of sincerity, objects uniform and reshape
J: prisms activate, fellows of castles long ago chime in angelic floats,
J: distant memory clouds the nose with emotional hold, blows and folds
M: sunken in moats a crusted sea grove, old blacks turn and are sent back to the boats
J: coats, take the coats
J: mothers reminisce
M: I remember her as freedom that was suctioned in an instant
M: robes removed
J: trailed off in conveyor belts
J: chicken
J : the females frozen icicle breath purring on me
M: melting me as winter rolls into spring scent
M: wafted from the woman is the innocence
J: in a bottle quiet in dimensions of melodic grandma love
J: away from our pelting energies babies
M: soaked in a bathtub, scrubbed from the skin
M: relaxed to a small extent, calm air is rusted
J: left so vulnerable oh so vulnerable... as suds and flecks brush like the wave of city life
M: the lavender scents eerie like the cities might, But grass lay flat beneath the sitting lights
J: and purring warmth's follow the lighted trail to a boy, and the petals are embroidered within the tender network of hair.
J: subtle goddess lights dance
J: the rosiest warmest love swirls
M: breathing out of containment to the sweat of the world, the angst of new love
J: death is melted into tar infusions
J: no
M: a soggy incinerator of life speak
J: he holds a key with lavender connections so small but stronger mightier than the star he holds true to. patients plays on the radio. flows of the universe are within without doubts
J: soggy spelling
M: writing syllables as the sky translates light..
J: love is in the breeze. float on your stomach with me. touching our souls with sunlight silence. and bobbing flowers. our advanced knowings swooning in silent purpose
M: ether stretches further and farther until embrace is reached cross interstates driven, homes on the hillside, country living
M: the dark screen one reaches out to appraising and nourishing, straining and salivating, loving longing the same
J: the night sky smiles, wielding data of truthful bearing to heart
J: apples you never knew
M: returning stick as transfer to the sap of the cells, embalming aliveness in the still portrait of person
M: showing generosity as a cool pink
J: take my hand, and let the compassion of Christ compel sun and wind as one twisting into waves of stomach thwarting glory to the past
M: in a romance conjunctures as ink in the fine print of news, universally translated in the heart of breeds dying from flourish
J: the joy of smelling a rose, sends me into robust memories bold but non-clingy, lifts me into the lightest cloth. the rose soul braids the biology of my heart. I am she in humble bumble bee acceptance.
M: like its peddles, the rhythm of buzz brought tranquil, only a tepid whisper, a warm water flushed to a prospered posture, plush
J: yet a buzzing shot shoots through me. my brain is dominance, and this dog searches for a bug like him to envelope in and out to touch the endless iris. melting into knees. peas
M: tendons snap and brisk iterates, what is this now flown past figure and formula, let me seek , let me see and rest
J: i pet the statues whom have stepped up in paradoxical fancies, they love the whispers. that gently caress them inside
~~~
J: let me feather into rest as well. hands and feet and fingers and toes in my third eye. pondering them sweetly
J: with lava
M: like yogurt soft, instilled in need of cinnamon
J: gorgeous matt...
J: (bow)
M: from where does a flow so subtle and suiting come ((bow))
J: its comes from your heart
M: yes that was graceful
M: together
J: be proud and blessed... alot of men of earth and women are not connected with it
J: that was beautiful :]]
J: (inlove)
J: haha
M: hehehe twas
M: i resist going back to normalcy

I am that I am

2011-04-02T23:47:00.000-07:00

I'm not entertained by all contained
This is how I enter tame
Fissures fusing in my brain
Love & pain without restrain
Did you hear my voice or name
I'm the whisper in the rain
I have no shell, I've wore it out
I have no cloths, I've burned them all
I have no home, to carry doubt
Not even this to point it out
I the one without constrain
The one who sets the soul aflame

Journal 3/27/11

2011-03-27T04:34:00.000-07:00

It's becoming more difficult to explain myself with words. The proper adjective, or the word best to describe how I feel alludes me. Currently I have woken up from a nights sleep and I feel something, although not tearing me, longs to be expressed.

So strange when I spend time to open myself up to things further to see what I really am. What I consist of beyond thought, an ever unfolding space or lightness. But still I feel so strange like I'm losing something like there is something for me to do that I already know, It's only a matter of devoting my time and finding what to spend it on. And indeed time is an opportunity to work, to spend in an activity and to quicken my functioning to that activity.

Is any of this sincere? The pace of which I write only skims the service while a slower writing would plunge the depths. I've concluded we are not individual, we do not have a set of quality but rather contain all within ourselves, every potential, everything perceived or sought after. All the dissapointments, the history of humanity. This is such an immense find and it signifies so much. What is the roll of someone who understands this fact. It seems unearthly, yet there is no longer anyone to explain, there is no other. I could use some direction. Wrapping myself up in writing as an excuse for prolonged instinct.

Space heightens, the ceiling of thought is distraught and folds into infinity
Chakras spin and throw off the dust of centuries
The habitual ways go south and an incredible speed is revealed
A speed that cannot be liven up too, increasingly glorious
Relationships to the world are vague and strange
Distant but never denied all together
What does it mean to open to these shifting skies
To die in the moment, to love like a golden axim
At the same time action is an apple seed lodged between mystery and understanding
Far beyond a given system felt as an extreme in a simple action
Channel this intuit poetry, find the gem, expressith
No longer can I hide I must resume activity
No longer can I type I must depart for "work"

I'll tell you of a peace

2011-03-14T21:30:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I want to go and leave out into non-exist
Would anybody know? or even give a shit?
This life for me is cold, why do I do this to myself?
My breath is fire to the flame, and I'm about to melt
I remember all the times that my heart meant nothing
A heart turned pure meets a world worth stuffing
I wish these people knew how much they needed me
That I wasn't just a piece of anothers scenery
While propping up the false, those things of little worth
I'm peeling back these scars to show me where I'm hurt
Yet I wobble and I fall my fibers wear so thin
This world is just a hoax, utterly limiting
Don't let it wear you down, don't fall into it's smoke
It's fleeting and it's lost with translations of it's hope

What kind of good am I, if you can't connect with me
And tears that balm my eyes can't suffer this disease
To give myself to love in a land that harbors none
That quivers and than dies with the light of little sun
Who stoops into my look, who harnesses my heart
Who honors to be done, as life crumbles apart
This virtue and it's scorn is all to much to ask
The mercy of the lord that cannot cure the past

And every path is worn, and every mind is tired
And all that live are crying and burning by the fire
With blisters on there feet, they walk without a doubt
And whispers of deceit plan and mark there route
No impulse in my wake, No fiery in the storm
What's created takes the place
Of an undisputed yearn
Whose mouth is dry and chapped
Than have him so be fed
But expect him little sleep
Among the hapless dead
Who weary in their ways, while singing of their laws
Who wake only to moan and issue fresh resolve
To never understand and seek a sight that's true
With letters and demand so they will beckon you
Forgetting of your deeds the moment business' through
These rainbows in the sky will grant one little hue
A penny worth of pity, a smile that's sewn from cloth
Yet protest you in trial and point out all they lost
And pacify themselves in books that others quote
Than pixalate their fame to reinforce it's scope

These processes are taint and a shame to who are free
Yet I'm angry at the fact that before I willed to be
Devoting energy to a sequence and a search
I resembled men like these that do nothing but deserve
There's so much to unearth, each motive and it's cause
Yet I'm tired and I am hurt from everything I solve
An innocence benign, and inner scent is wafted
And suctioned down the street than melded to the day
The frequency of few could it be adequate?
To manifest in you, the mute compassionate?
The serpent slithers tongue, will you faint under it's gaze?
The decision's left with you, I ask how you'll behave
To face the hues of gray and dimensions of this time
Or position to a post not straying from it's line
Is tinder with you still, than light a match and burn
Dispatch capacity of all that has been learned
Cause yes the odds are slim, and yes the climb is steep
And yes the gap is wide, and nothing comes with ease

Yet all the strength I own will lead me to my feet
With a back laden with stone through the gnashing of the teeth
We'll make this world a home, and bring about an ease
Some spirits speak of doom, Ill tell you of a peace
A poet and his feast, a wind unto the east
A bloom unto the heart, the few that mind there speech
Of mercy and it's might, the dross of old appeal
Denounced like leaden suit, an exposition of the real
The firmament and faith, the drop that carries truth
And casts itself as proof to the waters that pollute
I'll speak from satin tongue, your conscience than will shift
And shuffle through and sift, it's tangled web of mesh
to suffer through it's mess, and claim the consummate
Your figure and it's breath become predominant
Your fingers and their flesh they move without a hitch
From toe unto the head you network all of it
The flow of whats been felt expressith so the gift ~*~

Written by Winter Storm

2011-03-13T17:26:00.000-07:00

Carry the torch of heart
Like summer heat stains the skin orange
And the blue ocean sweats as exhalation
The movement of life and time bridge in well being

Creation spawns and old obliterates
New buds & saplings grow from the tree
The season shifts so many cycles and still the earth turns
One day it will be not so
The grandfather planet that has seen so many specimen
Housed and homed plenty phenomena will understand
and resign to it's own will of space, leaving from life
Calmly and without rush
Carried on by the infinite oceanfront
Washed upon the belly of white idea
And worked into a cell of intelligence
Remaining for endless durations in closed case
I stumble upon you today & forever more
For I am you and you me
And we all carry the same representative
that quiet voice in our hearts that speaks like earthquake
That honors death and the crimson tear of the soft spoken song
That collapses to aid us in the eyes of persecution
Who grows upset at the faded flower foregoing a lavender scent, and understands still that it must be so.

This sustaining cycle that is wicked and beautiful both but more so plain and fair. The scribes of love await the coming of dawn, and the knower goes into night snows to harness his peace. For in morning it will be figured, weather wared, breakfast cooked. The smile lines the faces of the young while the stern contemplate matters of manner. And before one is old he is ancient, another is old but a fool yet . Blending, bleeding, signed by fashion. Life.

I Honour the One Who Perfects the Self

2011-03-10T16:57:00.000-08:00

Through Dramatic & Traumatic experience you see the deep significance of your relationship with self. You learn care and self respect not from a book or an enforcement of behavior on your life, rather as a natural uprising and intrinsic part of oneself. And it drives one, an unceasing knowledge to know and penetrate into ones self and sit at the throne of ones self exaltation!

The freedom and lack of resistance, in non-desire you have nothing to do but relax. You have success, you have beaten the phantom self! You have reclaimed your power of wholeness & wholesomeness. The old roots have been ripped and you are remain the open spaces in soft soil for those waters of rejuvenation to pour into. Allowing the deepest seeds of your potential to sprout, take new roots and flourish in the grounds of selfless service and goodness.

You are an honor to your fellows and an archetype for there aims. You have exampled the finest, non- threatening and pristine. Creative and compassionate. Ingenious and original. Through the torrents of despair you have claimed the sweet treat of the sustainable self. Peace be with you as the wind guides your back to a beautiful befriending with the hand that feeds you your nature.

You have carried the torch through the jagged mountain paths and set the summits tinder ablaze. Such a note worthy flame, such a heroic aim. The angels applaud while the earth and it's inhabitants swell with pride in their spirit. You have come & came back to the center of your own innate perfection. Blessed Be. You are Free.

This is Fun

2011-03-09T00:47:00.000-08:00

I speak from the one voice to all that have ears. :)
As we follow each other it differentiates less and less. Allow yourself all three of these, freedom, forgiveness, forgotten. Forever rolling on the empty planes of being. Float from sand tides of distance, scape of movement and delicate staring. :?
I'll just put words on page.
In retrospect god is the indivisible reality where life pulsates and spins. How does it happen? How does it approach is a better question. Any moment your guard is down it will hit you. Every minute your heart is pure it will love you. Any moment your head is full it will spin you in a circle that only a madman appreciates ;-) Or is it the speed of intelligence and response that an Olympic athlete carries into exercise? Just two standpoints in the stadium.
Love is mad, it is not articulated, who charts it? Itself to it's source. Who monitors it, who disciplines it? What can you oppose on it that is not of itself. The ego responds and responds only to the disconnect. It is up to you to find loves working on yourself. Don't be afraid to melt. Just a warning. :) And from ashes and firmament comes a basic element that can more easily suffer to molding. Love of self is no love at all.

Kind of Cruel , Lonliness n' Things.

2011-02-28T10:49:00.000-08:00

Felt like writing something this morning the moment that I woke up. Lets talk about time. Things keep moving for us all and I keep dying and reopening myself to life. The days leave into the night than get enough of those and a season comes and leaves. Surrendered to those currents as If they would take me to a place more happening, or a place more enjoyable. It seems they lead me to where I still exist, after the movements, after the exchanges, the depressions and bliss. Some wide sense of aloneness. A fact that I am the only one here. That few and far between have seen the point where I have reached, and if I were to meet one like me. Than I think there eyes would be so far removed from my aim and conception that It would possibly double that sense of alone. I don't know who I am and this lonely sense makes me a stranger to myself.

Theres those in the periphery, that see in terms rather than colors, and see the emotional side of life through personalized reason. These are the ones that know me well and when they greet me are so certain of the reaction they'll get. "I've seen him many times, I know his name, I know his field of feeling." These people are the ones that do not notice themselves taking a step forward. For if they understood this law than they would ask me things at least with curiosity and listening in them.

So I continue to walk and look, talk and answer. Show interest in the things that my heart moves me to live and describe, taking time of leisure here, learning something in this movement and always transitioning, forgetting and losing. Living a life alone has not always been an easy thing for me. I face so many challenges that noone can see. Though I'm faced with the fact I must use my guidance to create around me the proper conditions for anthers development. That I cannot give up what I hold at the top of value, this one that cuts me down to build me up. My very self, after all this time I still hold in tender truth.

And this is strength, not those punks you see on the streets with there shirt sleeves removed. Or the one with the strong stare under a pair of fashioned sunglasses. There is more strength in the bleeding heart of a woman who cannot rise above the ceiling of her brutal husband. More strength in the boy that is of minority seeing clearly his lack of a home. More strength in the old man who spent his life in devotion to his wife, his wife who is now gone. The cloths and images we carry weigh pounds if not ounces, while the heart impregnated with loss holds the world. So before you assume, denounce or expect. I hope you dig into your shallow pockets and see what the coins you hold are worth. Before you plan another trip use that simple function to move on the windshield wiper so that the snow and dirt from yesterday (you call it knowing) is cleared off your window. See yourself before you speak to me, for it's commonplace for a dog to approach someone wanting food, but it's a rarity to see a human in humility asking for love. ~*~

The Sun Shines Through Me

2011-02-27T20:33:00.000-08:00

Flooding over passionate boundaries
The tide is gone over finished squelched, DONE
I'm standing in the center of an oceanic sky whose currents are ripping gentle
Burningly sensitive I wave myself from the dress made of crumbs and slip slide like a banana into rebirth
The high octane liquids. The fire and flame!
The ashes of restrained and pained existence.
Oh... It's all to much it is
But If you know than theres no problem just a sun.
The undying pleasure that makes the senses heighten to muteness
A conceiving of the retarded!
Never ending yellow gold liquid bliss kisses

Ways of the World

2011-02-26T09:23:00.000-08:00

I welcome this world, throwing me bricks of truth, never giving up hope on my weakness, bringing them back into scope till I round there corners. So many times if up to me the lessons would be learned for free or cheap, but society knocks with it's bundles of expectations, its shrill voice and prodding hand of bone only beckons me to see I have locked myself in my own home, cornered myself into ideas and given label to wonder.

May this world come through till I can hit it as hard with the lucidity It has given me as a gift, for the world has built the cathedral that stands in the middle of a dilapidated city , the hall with the portraits of men who were monoliths. Only such a place, showing self evident stops, could carve out a worthy hero willing to transcend and change it's nature.

Reaching the Womb

2011-02-25T16:39:00.000-08:00

The last spec of sand hits the bottom of the hour glass
The eyes droop and move downward in motion
The hearts rhythm slips incrementally
Sliding me a sentence ill to hold
There is only a matter of time in a day, days in a year, and years in a life
To forget all and everything
Mathematics and stimulus of all sorts
Many conjunctions and similes
Moonbeams converse at a certain point
Mountains slope to meet the basin of the tides
Mammoths and Dinosaurs drink to leave the earth
Evolution remains a matter of wonder
Every now and than actualized by a sincere studier
Eyes in the sky study all each detail a color or painting
Each painting a mold to fall back to oceans uncapped
Enchanted by nothing but it's own look it stares steady
Soon the moon mountain and that which bases in the earth quakes
Suddenly leaving the moment betraying thier forever assurance
Ships sink so do frames of time, states of mind, all desires unwind
Sifting by itself, for the sake of the laws translated and scribbled
Seamen of the seven cast down there nets with no opportunity biting

Its true

Life perfects itself for itself of itself
Lusciously unforgiving stealing and shifting the playing boards
Laughing when the level surfaces extends into it's all-pervasive domain
Lying back into it's bossoms one sees the ambilical chord that holds this life
Laid out in the womb I am drenched in the oceans embryonic love
Drawn again into the stomach of the universal mother
Darkening days through that thin bodily throat
Dreaming all of the time as I weaved through the stomach
Drinking from something deep as its coolness becomes part of me
Dieing to something strong dropping it into digestion
Now I am in an open space
Near the size of limit in a cosmic lava lamp
Networking and feeding me with its pulse and blood
Neurons rest in fire while the heart restrings and beats
Narrowed into the mind is a question-less answer
What works to create in this moment
Waxing the moon, working the human face in it's memory
Welcome fades and faints back into it's wisps
Wisps trail off and there again I am
Where will I be than when this chord is cut
Since all stems to me from it
Since all given moves and gives back into it
Slice this connection and I go adrift floating beneath times birth
Sliding in and out of what I cannot dream nor construct
Slipping from all domains what can remain of me?
There are shifts of identities that I myself do not welcome
There are roots into maths and sciences, of implausible mechanics
There and here is the being that houses me all
There is no questions of validity or reality
There is an emptiness void of all

You are My Quiet Voice.

2011-02-24T18:46:00.000-08:00

To me you are all, yes you are as white and blank as the unused page in a notebook, but your fabrication isn't pulp from wood. It is not the refined metal that a king rules from though by idea is closer. High in scope, broad in sight, my words fall and come back like mighty rapids. Again to fall, having each droplet become a silent tear, dripping from my eyes, caressing my cheek, burning my neck and landing within the target of my heart, instantaneously exploding. Again and again you tear me apart to expose my rawest part as yours, you claim me vicious. Karate chopped, sumo slammed, beaten thwomped and womped.

But mother mercy I am no fool to be continually deceived. You treat me as you have to. You only do this so I might behave to learn of you, to see you. After the fight and my resignation you slide from your cloths and nurse me to health. You restore my faith, and bridge my emptiness. I take the time to thank you and your ability to heal. You tell me secrets and I laugh. The fairy tales are new each time, and again I'm enthralled to listen and believe. Warming as the kettle on brick stovetop. You feed me faith. In a week i will be here to hug you, to talk with you and learn about how to improve. You are no enemy to me mother & sister. I don't have to fear your ways or try to conquer, but just to understand.

How will I fill you?
With empathy & listening skills.

How will I mold you?
Gently, through deep listening and a tender tongue.

By having faith in myself and loving myself I can entrust another with this delicate gift. I can smile without guilt and I can cry without shame.
I know there is good in me, beyond manipulation and aggression.
I believe I can bridge this and be better for myself and others

Seeking a Sage

2011-02-22T07:30:00.000-08:00

Floundering in the seas of wanted company
sincerity strikes and knows
the little voice, seeker of consolidation
tho the consolidator may not walk the obvious paths
with familiar signs, deals, and bargains
for it is one that keeps his road broad but mind in contemplation
who has little need to taste a thing twice
those who seek find, but not always by cause or collection
if the man on the roadway can not give it will you stop search?
your gaze will only shift to something more admirable
and more so to notice what was there all along
felt in your hearts first fiber
the funny tickle of creation

Can't Escape the City

2011-02-19T20:42:00.000-08:00

With it's industrial noise
and structured comatose
It sucks me in
Here a cog walks
And a screw driver keeps time by watch

In the crowded streets
carefully decorated signs speak
standing up on cracked cement
a budding leaf without a voice
marks the first I have heard all day

For on these crowded streets
Sleeping in a stainless frame
I document on yellow paper
Here in this rumbling city
Not a man is present

Estoy Enfermo en su Casa

2011-02-11T13:11:00.000-08:00

I'm sick
with an overgrown soul
looking blight at the task at hand
weary of what's next to do
but what I do today effects tomorrow
it is a line of sorts
And today I am alone at home
wishing for contact, longing for love
with such beauty prostrated
I only gaze and imagine
as the moments slip I retreat from the mountain
escaping into the solace of self
the dreary outcome of moments unlived
And whether a tower is constructed
or one slides away to a lower outcome
contact has been made & committed to the soul
so that in time, when it youthens, as it does
there will be another point of wisdom for light to pass
these I do not consider blocks

For Your Personal Enjoyment

2011-01-27T01:17:00.000-08:00

I left the crowd because they were not with me they mocked me they didn't understand what i was feeling. Compassionate eyes burn but unrecognized they are inverted and they heat ones forge so hot that a pair is producing the most precious metal, shining perpetually brilliant.

Who contains the sword that scares away baddies in a glance, that carves through bad intention. Conquering fear with it's welcoming. When it's wielder trips on jealousy, the jealousy that is improperly pestilent; The jealousy that scampers off dusting your carpet with chemical stains. The wielder gazes, feeling out his opponent and through extraordinary magnetism, the creature is frozen, it's greenish black coating begins to sizzle under a steady stare, bubbling, boiling, tossing in torment.

The sword glows it knows it's being fed. drawn from a leather Indian sheath, embroidered with a phoenix & butterfly. Transformation becomes evident... what was jealous & once treacherous is now pale and venerable, almost raw flesh. The sword wains in color outside of its sheath but when lifted starts a flicker.

Stopping for nothing, arms extended, sword in hand, a powerful thrust into the heart of the creature, in a second it is split, a flash and its body is ash. The sword is hot white and it's prey has left not a stain but an ambient glow like a crescent moon. From concentration and fight the wielder of sacred sword is exhausted.

Falling from fatigue yet is grateful in his triumph, is grateful for his sword, and is awestruck by its glow. It's glow is not ordinary it is not mediocre but strong, unworldly it is. By and by, through many battles, hate, irritation, the wielder can distinguish between himself and his arm less and less and less. It's radiation & familiar quality floods his veins and centers in heart.
It has come to him through steadfastness, through hard devotion, and sacrifice. Many battles have been fought. From boy to man and man to god... A champion and his sword of love.

What do you Need?

2011-01-14T17:06:00.000-08:00

There is a game that too often I play, if you were to play this computer adventure you would create a new character as your first step. You start at a rouge encampment where there are villagers to assist you. There is a blacksmith, a armor selling gambler, a traveler, and a woman selling you potions that nurse your health and mana.

This woman is old and appears like a witch, draped in a purple robe. As you approach her to speak she steps towards you and asks in a voice that is both knowing and deeply enchanted. "What do you need?"

What do I need? what does the collective need? What does the mind need to nestle and be free? There is something in me that detects the energies it is saturated in, the fields and the subtle thoughts, the wishes of an individual, also there contrast with my sensing of the world. Usually a response comes upon these readings/sensing to provide that which the other needs, wishes, or lacks. A dwindling couple needs a passionate love, a sad girl wishes a sweet dream, and a lively boy requires a large stage to show his success and abilities.

I see we do not only provide for one another, there is a far larger, and deeper intelligence that understands and recognizes these urges and provides, from the depths and sometimes the bowels, love is significant part of this intelligence, love always fulfills in the end. Send it out when you have it, to all around you, it can well in you and craft a fine glow, consciously let it seep into the hearts and minds around you. Let your hands warm and your feet as it flows out these passages, knowing very well you are setting the conditions for your contents to come to this unspeakable thing.

A Testimony to the Conflict the Grows and Bellows

2011-01-08T12:12:00.000-08:00

We must turn towards building a stable conscious. Understanding of another, of ones own functioning in relation to another, in relation to nature, in relation to the whole, to the 100s of polarities we experience. In this lies a real conscious not based on ideas or words of virtue but something solid, something actually, something undeniable, total, and compassionate. Conflict grows and sprouts in the fields of unexamined psyche. Our deeper relationships with people, the conditions we create around ourselves, and the ability to follow our spoken examples can be the only judges of our own progress, not past achievements, who you "know", or what visions you have. With that being said some poetry cast down from a warrior spirit. (In need of some editing for accuracy)

They can lock me in a cage but my fear is not of death. Because every day I face it to the point theres nothing left. Satan lives within us whats unacknowledged and ignored. Its when the world is torn with conflict that this inner I'll explore. Bombs have dropped murder of hearts, the lack of all conscience. Wars are born and built upon give firm root to violence. As spiritual death is threatened most will flinch and shut there eyes. Conceal themselves in crevasses making them hard to find. I'll rise up from the dirty plains, polluted waters, with this flame. With it the meek will be ordained. With this a man will reach his aim.

Outer War is the circumference to our inner most depths. Because the mirror serves one function and that functions to reflect. You might argue that it's pointless, that the world cannot be saved. But I feel responsibility a real man has to brave. So remain as you are, next to me but still afar, and speaking of beauty without knowing anything about it. And walk your own way, with this mind full of virtue and a heart full of thorns, in this world that is torn.

Just Blissin out and Making words rhyme

2010-12-19T19:04:00.000-08:00

I wish I could give you this light cause its so bright. It takes away uncertainty and makes it alright. It beams from my jeans and up and in between. There is a way to be saved and it lies in getting creamed. Nah mean? The skintight slap happy superficial, is just something operating for a fistful, of dollars. I'm no scholar though I spend my time in self. And I'm no caller at the times I'm needing help. Yet I'm reading from this felt this fly high fine fabric. Contemplate the words that I give is it magic? No it's manic? A heavy pendulum with awkward swing. Making me as ethereal as high pitched vocalists sing. It's not the red bulls giving wings though my heart is in the skies. I relieved myself from skin now I'm wondering why.

They asked me...

Is it a different man that sits upon your stoop, does he trail a brighter day, does he laugh and let it loose?

They asked me...

Would you be willing, with a wonderful tone to tell me if what your expelling is a present of bones. Is it taken from tombs? A melody from the past? Is it temporary fading while your craving to last? Is it gray is it black, can it help me relax? Can i fix it up and mix it with some grass from my stash?

I said ..

Hold up! this essence... is not a thing nor a phrase, in the poetry and song I cannot claim it's contained. I told them look at the sun, do you see how it shines. Can you point out any traces that its rays leave behind? What does it promise to you? It comes and leaves after nine. What does it threaten from you? it lends its seconds of time. Just reflect on this now, and without motive you'll know. That I am just a spec of what your life wants to show. That I am just an artifact, a fool with a mouth. But beyond attempts to label and to figure it out. There is a force that is there, like an empty cocoon. And perhaps it is a trap to lead you back to the womb. A spindle and a thread weaving the fabric of doom.

And I left from the shade, this shade where everyone sat, and in the past I would have walked and thought of talks aftermath. But through decades of time and conversations with few. This understanding that I spoke of evaporated like dew. And I was left to myself for eons after the next and i peered at the sun and like a mirrors reflect, it was so plain in my mind that nothings left to be seen. Like a flicker of flame, instants awake in the dream.

The most maddest of lines, the most hectic of lives, the most ambient glow, the most interesting show, or melodic note. Lets leave it alone for there is love in a box where I beat myself up with a sock full of rocks.

The Champion

2010-12-16T17:11:00.000-08:00

Perhaps it will go unrecognized, and everything will fade. But let it be known the impossible was done. That someone came and did the absolutely unthinkable. Someone came into this world of absolutes, and broke each one single handedly. Someone sailed the forsaken seas, and crossed into the unknowable ocean far past the edge of the earth. Facing the unbearable, smiling at death and embracing it. Sacrificing skin and bones!

In this world of shadows, of unending dispair, blood thirst and death, a warrior found life, the burning sun and brilliant oceans!!! Through complete abandonment, eyes set on the very hell, he tore through its barriers and penetrated them with loving mercy. He is the champion indeed!!

He may be praised, he may be persecuted, but he will not be triumphed, conquered, for there is no space he is afraid to go, there is no hell he has not seen, there is nothing that he has not already lost.. so he wins. By owning nothing he gains everything, nothing can please him, nothing can destroy him, nothing can affect him, that which will happen will be done. And it is good.. it is right this way.. it is beautiful beyond any comprehension.

Unsure Imbalanced

2010-12-09T22:10:00.000-08:00

Hard times teetering on thin lines. The stop signs the only signal I don't obey, but they don't dismay. Tough minded soldier minding his preach. In the seat and thinking things out of time place self totally melt(ed). Sheerly crazy utterly twisted thin lines and even the flow leaves me. Receding back into time all alone now.. well maybe just denying myself the justice of something. I look fine on the outside and that keeps me centered. I am dying here not being watered by my surroundings. So infinitely meaningless so empty so void of confidence. This space is truly a physic hell and the worst part is that it does not come off as a space, but as eternal. It will define my character. The charlatan and the singer. It's crazy but any order seems to me to serve as a greater downfall and confining space. Any decision i make may be my last as I am cut in and insized, boiled alive and served back to my self destruction.

Just need to relax now, hold myself together. Be easy and feel through, hard times, but easy breathing. Visions of a state so dreadful and panicked. Do you know what that is like, do you know what the other feels like?

On Silence

2010-12-04T17:29:00.000-08:00

there is a song that echoes

traveling to the four corners and further still

it cannot be caught

or fastened

in the quiet, the still

it makes itself known

be keen to listen in

for hastening to follow you may fall

deeper and deeper

through oceans of thought

origins of season

and landscapes of time

the song begins and ends here

in a place of neither beginning or end

the awestruck experiencer goes

without further succession

trailing off forever

echoing the song of grace

Far Out

2010-10-07T04:34:00.000-07:00

Thy will be done father. I seal my lips with thine name. The deliverance of your flesh was for transmutation alone. Bear me what you will, throw an obstacle on top I sit unmoving..
I dwell above you, within you, beside you I sit.
A stance and posture of seriousness. What pagan can deny your lips contour? The weight of my woes are pennies in the pouches of well fed men. It seems as though you are here to fool me but how can I question when a glance towards thine throne, like the sun blinds my eyes. A word cast towards you collapses like a young bird attempting flight. A moment with you wipes clean my slate. Of knowledge, insight, deep wisdom of Sanskrit & my own lives spectrum.
I travel lightly so that I may catch the tail end of your brilliance. I hasten my pace to spot your old footsteps, before.. before they are covered by my own woes.
Oh I am nothing but a fool, cruel and cold of heart without you.

So a beggar will beg, an assassin will kill, and an owl swoon at the sight of the moon. A traveler will arrive and have his song sung but! What is it to Me??!?
My sovereign father, most intimate of all life, you come to their door and they wipe their feet upon you my father. . .

seems to be lacking something.. have to fill in the intervals

Hey some writings for ya!

2010-10-07T02:04:00.001-07:00

These are just some spontaneous words that came after resonating with my guitar. I'm no professional writer jeez don't even think it. Tap in and Tune out right? Here we gooo...

I speak to my different selves.
The one inspired by music cast shadows of on the others
Each is part of the divine play. O mercy me.
The woe & grief of heart
ecstasy of longing
Tears tear heart fabric & are released with the ink of the pen
A sensational beauty mute in expression
Senses mute
Forlorned for ages, for what reliance can a man place on a poet?
Can he lay out his chips on the merit of heart, or pushed aside longings?
Against the stacked reason of mind.
Yet! that stack tumbles, crashes, burns!!
In a sorrowful agony!

My deeds are my life, my wants are it's breath
It's movements flawed but necessary
For this time my grip will be stone, to squeeze out all the juices,
to have them fall upon the unwashed floor
The dirty tablet stepped on since times birth
Vile thing willing to veer it's head in remembrance, be gone!
Be consumed by greedy longing!
Collapse under worldly pressure!
Crack at my sight!
Seat that to oblivion & let oblivion fade
For it, it has nothing to do with I
Forever more I do believe
It is nothing at all, a quiet mouse set to scare

Some Writings

2010-10-04T22:03:00.000-07:00

We are gods crying out our deep loneliness of our creator
Creation has not a single friend, a single member of company, it exists in a space that pulsates sorrow, a loneliness, perhaps it's bright burning joy is a tease, a sort of tear that cools as it runs down his face. An escaping sigh meeting with the human heart.

Perhaps, it could be different, perhaps we need to be cool tranquil beings that it makes us into. This rowdy celebration cannot continue forever can it? Yet I wonder if it's worthwhile, if a difference is made on attempts to make this world a better place, attempts to cover pains of the universal creator with words and paintings. It's hard to determine. And this space that I dwelt before I was birthed I am also accustomed to. I remember it in the seed of my mind. And remember it's feeling and frequency. With the light of understanding, I do believe we can grow into the things our creator desires and reduce the sorrow there of. Sometimes it seems so vain. These empty seas are a god awful tourist attractions that turn into a lifetime stay.

For we are like seeds, entrenched by layers and layers of soil . It is only when we water ourselves that we begin to sprout, and from there feel the true pressure that is weighing down on our growth. We have bloomed many times, and many times died in the process. Many times we have lost something of value attempting to reach to the surface, the other shore, a place where the sun shines the right temperature, and the water keeps us cool.

Can we ever reach? Perhaps over many blossoms, attainments, recognitions by the human eyes, we find a spot to let go. Perhaps as our roots grow deeper and deeper, stem lengthens and grows thick, leaves blossom and fall off, helps us to realize we were never the flower. Nor the roots, that showed us a integrity, a stability, beneath the ground and unknown to eyesight. The pedals we are not either although over time they grew more lasting beautiful and sustainable.

We are that, that watches the earth and all of it's manifestations. That peers from an invisible eye, in an invisible space, more transparent than a clear window. That which longs will remain in longing for it is too far away to ever touch a single one of it's creations. It is too distant to measure. It is more deep than depth and more subtle than empty space. The purest expression. Perpetual and brilliant, exclusively alone. The silence of our creator will never be disturbed. Not by this man, not by anyone.

Facing Oneself Consciously Contantly

2010-09-20T08:23:00.001-07:00

What does it mean to face oneself? What does it feel like and how do you know when you are doing it? How will the results show up? Facing yourself, confronting yourself, knowing yourself all start on the same line. That line is a moment of recognizing where you are, what you are doing, just taking a moment. Our mind can exist in different states it can be foggy, apprehensive, full of worry and uncertainty but.. it can also exist without these things. How can one achieve the difference, what mountain must be moved? I find that it takes a willingness, an effort, a redirection, and a minimal sense of feeling. Some people go through the vast majority of thier lives without taking a moment to recognize whats happening in the present moment. Others are scared at what they might see thus turn a blind eye to anything they are unfamiliar with. We can become full of panic when we drop into this moment, we may come across things that have dwelt in us for long periods, emotions especially.

Try this simple practice, bring your alert attention into the moment,take a moment to recognize your surroundings, there is no hurry, we are coming to the moment where there is nothing to get done, just watch. how does your skin feel? is it dry? acknowlege your senses and the colors of things around you, is thier noise in this moment? peripherally? mentally? what is it that is watching it all?

These questions mixed with alertness will be like fuel for your dive deep into the moment. It can become uncertain and scary, yet so exciting to find out what it's all about!! These attempts to penetrate the moment take you from point A to point A, you will arrive in the same moment as when you became alert to your surroundings, alert to that what is taking your mind away from the moment. Yet something will have changed in that small time of alertness. Their is intent in this, intent that acts like a flame, now you are starting with damp grass, and damp grass takes time just to dry! have patients friend. To sincerely ask yourself, to feel with the energy available to you, and strive to feel what this moment contains, is the high temperature of intensity that is needed to dry that grass. Again and again you come back with increased strength, additional strength, exponential strength! I stress the alert attention into the moment. There are things you may arise in the moment that are terrifying to bring that attention into, fear anger jealousy etc etc. Yet when you look deeply at these phenomena, just attentively like a student on the first day of school, just alert and ready to absorb, than... well try it and find out. Start small! with the senses, for example try to feel your hand, you may start to notice sensations that you haven't felt in years.

Deeply, remember this, all their is is this moment, this precious second, tomorrow is my creation, yesterday is a memory. If you are uncomfortable than you are about to get a taste of your own strength. It has been so long since feeling something authentic within.

When you make this simple conscious choice, to return your attention into the moment to feel what already exists, we find we invest our energy in the future in what we feel should exist. The present moment holds a different quality, an unspeakable quality, the quality of peace, of insight, of quality! No need to look for them they come to you, you don't have to search for these things, by yielding to the moment they will start flowing towards you, all in good time. Now another question.. what is going on for you now? Are you still aware of that hand I had asked you about? Have you kept track of changes in your body since last time we spoke? What is taking place in this moment? Rather than expecting, instead you await...
Rather than hoping to come to something, let something come to you...
Receive what this moment has to offer, you can only do this when you bring your attention into the moment, and yield to it's circumstance. It really is a simple practice, allow yourself to have fun as well, it is not something to enforce on you, instead use as a sweetner, to bring an aliveness back into the moment, back into your body and mind, to bring your moment to life!

Early WORKS!! Cuz Earley WORKS!!

2010-09-07T22:56:00.000-07:00

Here are some of my first written works, junior year, feelings of boredom in Math & English class. The rapper within is born.. I really like these earlier pieces and smiled upon reading them. Cheers mate!

Okay this first one was actually written my senior year..

I see nothing but potential when I write these words with pencil

Little do they know how to lace lyrics instrumental

Like spirit wraps with melody you feel it in this scripture

Construct my flow & bit by bit I get the bigger picture

Throw it in the mixer and it's still something you like

A bite of truth so let it loose & fill your appetite

The rising moon majestic sun, the rich king and the humble one

All collect in tiny specks to bridge the gifts thats spoken

Lie down and come unfrozen. Lay drop unto the ocean

Early WORKS!!!!

My flows are automatic, they jump up from the page because they're infused with static
Don't give a dang nabit!
Who writes the flows when there's math to be studied?
The ones that aint plastic, me and my buddies.
Your whole life to this point has only had one focal
To get you out your atmosphere imma space choke you :D
Cast spells to provoke you
Take the screen out your mind just like the dope do..

The underlying voice of reason concrete beneath my feet cease the release!
What do you do in your free time? Write rhymes line for line?
I hope so. Lets pool it all together and create a dope flow
Length earths diameter times 4
Bitches, the real, stacks of cash,the human figure, stock market crash
Ill write until my hands distort and crack, scream until my voice becomes the past.

Flow so smooth would've thought boy was lubed
Y'all a bunch of boobs getting info from the tube!
Crystal Clear thoughts through my wired up brain
Labels group a bunch of lames trying to reach power & fame
Fool there aint nothing to gain! jesus already came! so if your searching for salvation,
your soul getting maimed, money been gone, truth been dead, we traded out humanity for
gunpowder & lead so instead of standing up, Everybody sit down!
Let powers that be, toss you around
Half of us are dead and the other half dazed, I'm sinking into dark leaving light to sun rays.

Fire Flowetry

2010-09-01T22:00:00.000-07:00

Can we look?
Can we look and see.. Just see.
Without distinction or comparison
Without addition or subtraction
Without being fooled by sensation
Can we maintain this sight until all is seen?
We are bound by each other bound by ourselves, bound by our expectations..
I say let the floodgates open, let the clouds move in, rain cascade and lightning cover the sky. Allowing tornadoes of mind destroy everything in sight. Burn your black carbon and grow your soul I say! Screech your tires until you ride on rim, the rim to axle and axle to dust. Of what in this world is worth to hold knowing their seeds of disappointment, anguish, despair and depression. You can fill your house with goods and decorate your doorway but these things leave you broken and sore in anticipation of others.
Kind words turn my tongue into ash and my heart to paper. I cannot bear this hypocrisy, brutality, desperate wanting. These hungry eyes that consume everything without sight! My never ending struggle continues agianst the continuous line of ignorance. My own, the collective. With fields of feeling and seas of sensitivity, I step into an empty dust bowl. Will my seeds ever grow? Or just blow endlessly in the winds of indifference..

Picture: Gary Rosenberg http://grosenberg.wordpress.com/

Back to the drawing block

2010-08-29T20:33:00.000-07:00

Words cannot describe what I feel, words are just to much burden this is so light. There is a light on my forehead and buzzing me into transparency. Yet I remain in control of my body and my typings yet I don't want a single thing but to feel how I feel now. Silent mind, silent heart. The floodgates open. Its so light that it surpasses poetry, it is invisible. I always tried to share this feeling, these feelings.. and slowly I gave up except in moments. The mind is not interested and the heart is not hardly interested. what it needs is a moment to taste the sweet elixer of mental stillness. What.. may I ask, happens when you are not there to ask. haha. Blazing flame that will knock your socks off! And even though the words make no sense, they serve their purpose alright?

Nature's Peace

2010-08-26T13:29:00.000-07:00

Ahh the peace that comes with patient relation with nature is impeccable. To sit by the tree and acknowledge its bark, the bugs on the ground, or in the cold winter, the frozen wellspring beneath the earths icy shell. These small things bring you so much peace, peace used to end the minds chatter and to be spent in resonation with Earth.

The Earth is alive and sensitive, very intelligent. It embraces us tenderly when we will to spend our time with it. Our bodies know earth from the physical, our organs are fed through what Earth produces. When our mind quiets.. feels.. it is enhanced by the earths sensitivity. Our heart delights in the color and splendor of a landscape, and our spirit is seen in it's vastness.
Have you starred at a flower, thoughtless? A purple skyline or an orange autumn tree?
To just watch and be aware of nature allows our blocks and cramps and stresses to dent, crack, and slip slide away.....
Feeling Stressed, worried, or anxious? Having a bad day or trouble in a relationship? Take a walk or run, breath deeply, and acknowledge your surroundings. This will bring so much peace to your mind. You'll find it hard to believe how accessible the dimension of peace becomes while dwelling in nature. A true miracle.

By the way. Minnesota in Autumn is sooo beautiful, right now the transition is being made.

I Document My Poetry

2010-08-18T14:00:00.000-07:00

Another piece about the simple thing that gives a man so much trouble.. *sob*.

Mother of mercy
Like a dripping honeycomb
So you fill my heart with virtue
Chrysanthemum in the field
Blooming each season, yielding to each
My subtle dandelion
Who laughs me to tears, choking my words
Till all is unwritten
Standing on the verge of the moment
Isn't it strange to see your eyes become mine?

Bill Gates

2010-07-22T22:35:00.000-07:00

This rhyme rings success, for my friendship and I
We emanate and serve tasty rhymes no discriminate
I'm the shy type, but I've got my mind right
Mad skills just exposing a portion, playing the role of an orphan
My friend has the spirit, it's in him the crowd trusts
He sets em up and then gets them crushed
It may look like I play the crutch
But look a little closer to see I'm holding him up
I'm the reason he shines, though they don't pay me much mind
When I speak It sounds to be a door that is rusted
They stand and feint away, it leaves me surprised
Cause to me my words look like something to listen to
They bring meaning to my life and come from that meaning
Is the crowd not well meaning? It's the story of my life
It's the story of type, does my nonacceptance have me paying the price?
I'm too busy thinking, lets get back to the show, drop a bar just to let them know
I'm still alive! more than ever! My friend rises on my downfall, or so it seems.

Respect the Meditator

2010-07-20T23:35:00.000-07:00

Endow this woman with respect, she has traveled very far.
Respect the mediator you fools, she loves you and at the same time avoids you.
Her knowledge is not in a book or boughten in a store.
It is not having to do with "soul" "heart" "god" or "watchfulness".
The mediator is a flower that draws in light, the light of no expectations.
The mediator is as much of a fighter as any black ally brawler.
Have you heard of a back ally brawler honoring the hidden?
Walk around the world three times, she will surpass in a second.
If you had any idea, you would yield to her, cater to her, and care for her.
She will shower riches that you cannot receive, your pockets are already full.
She will effortlessly polish your heart, what an unnecessary commodity!
She will be everything you thought you wanted, and take your laughter with a smile.

Desire and Surrender

2010-07-20T22:48:00.000-07:00

Your Desire is Blind 2/21/10
You chase after wants and desires almost as quickly as your mind spins them into webs. You believe that in your blind followings lies contentment and compleation. You are being fooled and used. That which brings contentment also brings an awful lot of love and life. For life as it now with all it's robust things, all it's pleasantries and shiny toys, does not fulfill man's endless desires. Of what immensity would it take to soothe man's burning striving? Could the universe in it's entirety play such a role? How weary must you become? How utterly repulsed until all is dropped, left behind, and eventually forgotten for the secret of your soul? Forever aware is this secret... nah it is no secret at all to an empty mind and quiet heart. It is still yet exploding, quiet yet rapturous. Your hearts medicine, your souls ecstasy.It is life, it is love, and it's beauty is remarkable.

Surrender 3/13/10
Around every corner of life lies surrender. With surrender lies the stream of life. If you are merging with that stream, than you my friend have found surrender. What a joy it is to float with the river! What a hassle to be over encumbered with the weight of past mistakes and the wait for the future with its ambitions and all. How beautiful is this effortless state! How simple and easy! And surrender bears bountiful gifts, carefully decorated, exploding in color. Surrender is the bridge between you and your life, let us cross shall we?

Call for Ecological Action

2010-07-19T11:28:00.000-07:00

My heart beats with passion, this is not a fashion. Time to get smashing with ecological action.
Nature, is the world, nature is not built by man and is not made for man to tamper with. Nature is a delicate and fragile thing, have you felt it? Watching you at night, saturating the air with its vibrations. Allowing you to breath and existing effortlessly all the while. When we are unaware of our relationship with nature, without and within, a great imbalance that we see today arises. We are cutting down trees and destroying our roots. We are unconsciously trading in earths wonders landscapes for the ugly shop front, aisles and aisles of things to fill up our time, and our basements :(
Maybe it is that we have forgotten what affection nature gives to us. I encourage a walk through the woods or local park. Try buying a plant to water and care for in your room. Nature leaves itself open to us does more for us than we can imagine. Can you imagine the change in energy if we were to cut down half of our surrounding trees? Feeling passionate and using this to drive my education on conservation and a more balanced life style.
And of course a plethora of feeling...
Spraying lawns for weeds and introducing chemicals, your living unaware and not seeing with your eyes. Seeing nature as our guide thus it's downfalls our demise. Yet we never realize that nature serves us all the time. TO make the earth a heaven and direct us to the sky. A flower rests on the wayside just to look at, as we proceed to war with no attempts to look back. You don't need to be a philosopher or poet to know nature. Have a walk, hug a tree, and savor natures flavor. You could even start a garden in a back yard! Some elbow geese and backbone its not really that hard! Respect our mother earth! Establish a connection! Nature dwells within our nature impassable perfection!

A Prayer to the Father

2010-07-18T22:22:00.000-07:00

Father, rejoice in yourself today for your son has found his way back to you. He has tread the long road and encountered pitfalls beyond mosts comprehension. He has slowly unraveled your mystery's. He has drowned in your sorrow and basked in the supreme love that is you alone.
O FATHER!! your way has been hard and treacherous, many times my heart has bled its entirety.
O FATHER!! your way has been so selective that very few will understand... in this aloneness I dwell.
You come to me father, in times of hardship, and you exalt me and reveal your own strength
Father, you lower your head to exalt me... of whose mouth can I speak from to worthily praise..
At times I feel myself unworthy, I see that your world is only now coming into view. I speak to you from my depths!! I cry to you!! Forgive me father for my weaknesses... Why do you bother with this man? Suffering from pain, stumbling in his blindness??
It is your own virtue... the virtue that now brings tears to my eyes. I cannot begin to express it. O father, I am yours, wrestled from my place of resting, stripped of clothing, sealed eternally in your beauty....

The Supreme Aim & The Greatest Tragedy

2010-07-15T09:18:00.000-07:00

Call it meditation, work on oneself, awareness, purity, consciousness. They all attempt to point to the same thing and all fail. They are words and words will always be clouded with ideologies, subject to time and the human condition. To be, to relax into yourself and sincerely begin to inquire, accept, suffer, and again move back into realms of thought, feeling, sensual experience, to me is the supreme aim. Any experience is valid because your awareness does not judge good or bad. It just sees, and it is your own choice to stick with this pure seeing, otherwise you are subject to the raging streams of thought and desire, you will not be in control, you will not be present. In the past there was a very simple exercise I would use to come back to this simple awareness, this resting attention, this beingness. In the midst of my day, in those moments that I wasn't lost in daydream or pursuit, I would ask myself "Who am I?" and would just try to be alert in that moment, make an attempt to "feel" myself and stick with this "feeling". Nothing was instant, and I would feel confused and frustrated at times. I stuck with it. Another question would be "what is this experience all about?" and again, in asking this allow something to arise, keeping watchfull like throwing a bowling ball and waiting for the pins to be knocked down. Agian and again I would do this and more and more get a strange feeling of connectedness, of an intimacy that was very pleasurable. When beginning it helped to ask these questions. "Who am I?" a song would pop into my head, I let it play and again asked "This body is it moving by itself or am I moving it?" "Is this thought me or does it belong to another?" These short reflections do not do much at first, no, at first it is very slow. For one secound you will remember to be aware, awake, the next... the flame has gone out and you are lost in the content of you mind. Maybe a whole day will pass untill you relize that you were unaware. You may even be angry when you come back and become aware that you lost yourself. "Fuck!" But think about this, the fact that you remembered you were not aware in itself is a rising awareness, a growing awareness. When I felt this returning I would again make attempts to strengthen this dully alive feeling. Trying to feel my own presence very intensly and letting awareness, aliveness, sink into new areas of myself. To continue this exploration, of mind, emotion, body, surrounding, became my supreme aim, and to stop this search, to fall into stagnation became the greatest tragedy.

Poetry! (Preview)

2010-07-09T16:11:00.000-07:00

Love once existed as an old ancient tomb, buried in the earth and concealed from the multitudes.
It was dormant, asleep, and would only be stirred when energetic winds wrestled above it's dusty catacombs.
Then, a furious thunderstorm came, and in it's process lightning struck directly above the tomb
A small crack pierced the old walls, stiffer than bricks, and sensing this, love sprang like never before to break the eternal seal. Drawing forth all its energy, acting as a vacuum on everything around, a great energy arose. It pounded agianst its prison without mercy, causing a great shaking in the earth.
The residents of the near landscape had for many mounths, years, centuries, been living lives of no value. All their energy was invested in a self induced matrix of thought, they believed themselves victims of life, and never in years had one of them been truly happy.

Great Jericho Cannons Echo Sound Residual

2010-07-08T21:49:00.001-07:00

Here is something that has taken me a long time to understand, although you hear it suggested and implied to be obvious very often in life. I think what I am talking about is being inconsistent, and to be happy with different things and to shed your old skin. Even on my blog in the past I talked about this. I've written things that say enforcing various things on yourself, how would you say it, will stunt your growth? Now I am seeing that as an attitude I enforced on myself, not to say that the things that I wrote didn't come from my heart, a place of meaning, but even meaningful things fall away my friends. You know I used to think that enjoyment lied in consistency, and it does. But now I see myself wanting again to test the waters and explore new perspectives, and just learn from my own mistakes instead of trying to mimic this or that, act in this or that way. I don't want to be consistent anymore. I'm strong enough now just to let go of all the crutches. When I am like this, inconsistent, than I can learn so much from you and the world around. I can express myself much better according to the people I am with. There is love in this. Many times I've give change in situation resistance and see it as a cramp in my plans, now I am seeing it more so as something to learn a great deal from, and enjoy for fucks sake. Not everything has to be a lesson and sometimes you just need to be wild and explode. Sometimes you need to be dull and uninteresting, I don't even care about these things and honestly boredom looks to me almost the same as being wild. I just go on and flow on I don't know how to live or what to do but I will say that I enjoy each day more and more, because my awareness stretches to all things. There is love in this :). And this is one of the first blogs where I just wrote without giving a fuck about impressions. Fuck Rapping!

Again that something opens the floodgates of the heart

2010-06-28T21:43:00.000-07:00

Disappearing into a traceless haze
Covering the room in a thick smog
You are on fire!
well burn me my one, burn me
swallow me whole
I am already drowning, end it now!
Sweet sweet silence
I enjoy the sunshine
Join me my friend, brother, and cousins
Your sugar numbs the tongue and tinges the body
Mine entrances the heart, won't you try it
pleeaassee

Last Nights Hypnotism

2010-06-14T19:17:00.000-07:00

Documenting a little something from last night. Last night at an all night party hosted at my high school for my graduating class there was a special guest. This guest was a hypnotist. He began with telling the audience of around six hundred to hold up their hands and interlock them, then he repeated that they were getting tighter and tighter and will no longer be able to be opened. Well when he told us to unlock them I did so easily but others could not. It was these few remaining with locked fingers who he chose to experiment with on stage. During the course of about an hour this hypnotist had control over 10 students. It was interesting to watch through the various experiments and I made several observations. Each person appeared conscious, they had open eyes, control over movements, and fluid emotions but something was missing; each student was subject to the will of the hypnotist. He would work with with one or two at a time making them do things like dance, or would limit their speech to certain words, even freeze body parts. The hypnotist could talk with the whole group while in a trance and would give them a scenario and then, by command, awaken them to that described scenario. He made use of their imagination when telling them they were on a rocket ship blasting into hyperspace. Each student clutched their shoulders and started to vibrate. Amazing! There eyes were open but if you looked close you could see that they were dreaming and projecting imagination onto their surroundings. The show ended when the hypnotist releasing the students from his bondage of entertainment by snapping them out of there sleep trance. The audience left the hall and those hypnotized recalled little to nothing of the last hour. The performance left me wondering how it all worked, and above that how easily and quickly the man could control those few students. Was it subjective to those chosen? Did he play some trick of music vibrations? More than likely though we are already hypnotized, and his job was just making use of that. Sitting outside I took a moment to myself and observed the surrounding people, and like many times before I found it to be true. Many sets of seeking eyes bore the same look as those onstage and entranced.they appeared to be awake and functioning yet if you looked in their eyes you could see their dreams being projected onto their surroundings, they were victim to these dreams like those students were victims of the hypnotist. Being tugged too and fro by the force of these dreams, possessed I felt surrounded by hypnotized people! it was horrifying! they appeared to be awake and functioning yet if you looked in their eyes you could see their dreams being projected onto their surroundings, they were victim to these dreams like those students were victims of the hypnotist. Being tugged too and fro by the force of these dreams, possessed. They were not aware of themselves but under the influence of some hypnosis of desire. So fucking strange... if only they could be awoken with a tap on the shoulder and have their attention come back into reality, back to remembering themselves, their own presence, the feeling of I AM within yet beneath the powerful pull of dreams. Then I thought, would they want to? Maybe they dream themselves to be powerful, possessing things that they do not actually have. Maybe they are in a nightmare! It left a impression that stayed with me as I skateboarded home.

One last poem

2010-06-11T20:17:00.000-07:00

I had the noose around my neck and was just about to choke it
When a phrase came to me and I didn't feel so hopeless
It wasn't just a gesture that you would hear out on the streets
It was 16 sacred words that did resonate in me
You chose the hardest path theres no arguing with that
now get it off our neck and get up off your back
Your gonna trudge the way
the path goes straight to hell
I won't give you shit but will just tell you this..
Your lips are endowed with a quality
that burns away the darkness and makes it how it outta be
Then the pain struck, it was too tough
I made it through it, it gave me new stuff
A pair of eyes with potential to seek
At that same moment my heart started to beat
And a strange strength, swept me off of my feet
showing me a brightness that may lighten my load
From the stories untold, old, Solomon's gold
Im not a child no more, Ive grown into maturity
through the limitless pain and the seas of uncertainty
don't know if this world is fit to nurture me
come to my house in this state of emergency
and bear me your burdens , Ill take them away that is certain

Human Potential

2010-06-06T13:39:00.000-07:00

Good/Bad?

2010-06-01T19:07:00.000-07:00

Okay I am in no way trying to give you some philosophy or complex thoughts, you already have enough. The shoulds and should nots. To me it is all bullshit. Who is the holier than tho men who have put these restrictions on us, and so much that we enforce them by ourselves. This good and bad business, this virtue and sin. They have taken away so many lives before the person has had the chance to begin!! so many!! These images of good and bad have given us a bogus conscience! Sentenced to a life of guilt and servitude, of suppression and anguish. A child is playing in the yard with friends, laughing, he is just himself, and whether he is acting angry, deceitful, means nothing, He is innocent!! not yet decrepit with this dull society. and what comes from him comes from innocence. He sees more than you do! Your college and schooling, time spent in worship, endless knowledge does not give you that innocence. That sight! emptiness! eyes! But we enforce and enforce things upon this child. How to act, should and should nots, roles, meaningless things that choke him out. It is dangerous to remain a child you say, there is business, something must be done in this world. You disregard that innocence and kill him with countless responsibilities born from ignorance. Give your child room to grow, your own child, he or she is within, give it the freedom it seeks, and feed it weather that method be good or bad. Till the soils and grow that child and than you will see... you will see that child is your mother, father, and children, the trees and the earthworm, the one next to you with the dirty look in his eyes. That child is beauty and fullfillment itself. Give it trust, nuture and care. Be brave my child.

Fragments from an Unknown State

2010-05-30T15:56:00.000-07:00

One night I awoke between sleep and a dream. An old voice spoke in an ancient melody. It felt as though time was receding to it's source. The voice rang out in a rhythm and chorus. Hear this! it pronounced and I bounced back to spaces that in comparison were quite tasteless. I slept for a second and then left it behind. Was it a choice that I made or one of my mind? This time clearer it came as the rain in the chasm of canyons. Echoing out I honed in to fathom. Infinite love and a peace that's unseen were some of the things this voice showed to me... I awoke the next morning broken and mourning for I felt myself no longer at home. I was lying in my own bed and wondering for what walls existed. What do we keep out and what is beyond beyond beyond that bad taste in our mouths. Perhaps the WHOLE of creation perhaps nothing but, I have to find out. Could it be that fleeting freedom that is now a memory. That song of magnificence is now an old crusted tune. O spare me the heartache but my heart is no longer well, I am in agony. Blistering pain!! May that common connectedness visit this miserly man once more.

Learn to Freestyle

2010-05-25T16:39:00.001-07:00

Rapping has always been a joy for me, I have been rapping for a long time and some say "I got flow" so? what would they know??
Just kidding.
Since I've found joy in rapping I've tried to spread the fever to others, and I'd say that I'm let down at the inability of people to step into harmonic lyricism. Timid and unsure they say "I can't rap" then I would say something like "if you can talk you can sing, if you can walk you can dance" and again they would hit me with "I can't rap" Its nothing really, easy as pie, a little momentum and energy put into it and all of the sudden your mind is feeding you all your thoughts backwards.

You might say this is how you learn to rap, continuous effort. You get 2 or 3 thoughts mixed and mashed up and it sputters out, but the thing is that harmony comes with adjustment and adaption to these "undesirable conditions" just forgive yourself and keep hammering that nail, you will be shredding the mic son!!

What is rapping to me? Rapping is self expression, rapping is a form of communication, and sometimes this form is more versatile for getting thoughts across, like poetry or painting, like star gazing or running in the rain, party go-ing. A certain taste and flavor that can add some spices to life is what rap is. I don't know if you know this but they call a circle of lyricists a "cypher" and indeed rapping works this way. It siphons your emotion, your vision, you grit and filth, your ecstasys and it pools in into a river that onlookers call "flow". Of course the rappers know not only the word but that experience of being one with the flow. That rapper is you next time you are asked to drop a line, a thought, just go for it cousin!! Something like...
Busy as a beaver
I guess I'm a... believer
Okay your friend will take over from there but next time it comes to you your ready like...
Blue unto the White
Its the rapid raw insight, that'll take you where you like for a jimmy and a light!
Okay okay, your warm but don't get cocky!!

I'm just messing with y'all its just an open poetry this post.

Weekend Experiences

2010-05-15T13:59:00.000-07:00

Here is a post that is somewhat normal, no poetry, no direction, just telling you of the things going on in my life. We can all agree to this right? Okay then lets continue. Currently I am working on the late assignments for my English class, the very last credit necessary for my graduation. Graduation is coming and I am feeling strange, I have changed much throughout the year and have no idea what is in store for my future. Since the weather is nice and I have a sum of money saved I may leave home to travel. It will be a big challenge for me but Im starting to feel more assured that this is what I'll do.

Yesterday I left home temporarily, too much time there is suffocating, on my skateboard and traveled around Woodbury. I was pretty steamed but I wound up on a forest path between neighborhoods, there is some very nice nature in Woodbury between the streets and buildings. I sat there breathing, listening to the traffic in the distance and it wasn't long before I felt better. Continued towards the library letting off an olly or 180 on occasion and finally headed home. Since there was nothing for me to do there I decided to go to the school dance, and I'll say that I'm glad I did.

I usually have fun dancing and last night was no exception.I defiantly toned it down around others (at times) and I didn't spend all my energy in the first twenty minutes. A big thanks to everyone dancing and allowing themselves a good time. My favorite song was probably "party like a rock star", during this I had a big open space and was dancing as though I had drank a bottle rum. hahaha, a madman. I didnt come with a group to bunch into and was getting tired of dancing alone when a girl asked if I wanted to dance. We spent some time together and she turned out to be very sweet. Alot of silent communication which is cool for a change. Looks as though its that time again to leave this house and get to an early grad party. Sorry Mom and Dad but I promise to finish this paper by the weekends end. As for you reader, be happy and know that I'm smiling with you. Okay. Alright. Bye bye.

One Sad Song

2010-05-12T18:16:00.000-07:00

So easy to listen to, understand, comprehend
Most comatose, I'm poetic with the pen
It depends, whats your aim?
Cmon man, lets just get outta here...

When the coast is clear be cautious
Talk much but its just that shrouded
Pure intentions get clouded
What is known gets doubted
Yet my feet stay grounded...

So maybe it's best, that life is a test
And the ones that progress, die to past success
Livers, Diers, Seekers, Liars
Tread each path like a fresh pair of tires
And I'm tired...

Don't hold me close, I'll fail every expectation
They wish for this but I go and do that
It's not easy for us either, but the flames get higher
Always seems like whats maimed gets dryer
Like hey, understand I've wept a silent tear too
Sorrow runs deep and I can't steer through
We need each other, you reach out to me
I reach out to you
No that wont do.
Life is more than that, life is so much realer
We never feel whats real theres so many dope dealers
The drugs are varied yet one in the same
Surviving on fear and conniving your pain

Wish I had a plane, Wish I had a plan...

Spending time alone is what make this man
But just take this man, and just break this man
Sometimes I just straight hate this man
But each storm will settle like so many else do
Life is never easy but we find our way through
And with each day lived, through each lifetime
We're finding the strength, that unknown lifeline

Peace & Love

On Wholesome Goodness

2010-05-11T11:03:00.000-07:00

Your divine, purifying my inside
They call it love, but they must have died
Because they stopped at love & Im still finding
Im still flying, not only that but I'm crying
Out of the tender beauty that is you, without you I wouldn't know what to do
Your the only realness that is realer than real, your always on my mind, always
Most stay with the clouds with silver linings, enjoying that ride
But for you those clouds were nothing I had to break through them and feel the light of the sun
And how sweet it is
My only want left is be with you, to know you, to die in you
You can rob me blind I won't even flinch, I don't ask a thing of you because I am your shadow
To come home to you is all I want, to be free of this luggage I have been carrying for all this damned time
I feel you right now, see you right now and you are so alive
Making me an artist just being with you, every action from you is flawless, the most beutifull
You make the most divine poem what it is
I might write about you, speak about you, but just a fool flapping his tounge because you are unexpressable
Making me a madman, mad with this exploding love

Bringing Laughter Back

2010-05-06T10:53:00.000-07:00

I have heard that laughter is the best medicine. This complements my observation that being serious is the worst diesease. I associate being serious with being tense, expectatious, asumptious, and easily slipping into problem seeking. While non-seriousness exhibits the qualities of playfullness, light heartedness, experimentation, and gives a sense of openness and space in ourselves that keeps us from reacting to things but rather responding to them. What are the things we are most serious about... I wont start with the big taboos, like sex or... oh no, relationship :D---8 Blahhh. Thats okay ill feel better soon. Some sit on feelings of anger, depression, sorrow, I believe with a little non-seriousness, a little expression these things are hardly even temporary. Even things like the mourning process, which i recently experienced, although painful, is fleeting when its not taken as "serious" or "permanent" a good cry, and a let go will help. And in doing this with my own feelings I was taken deep into the process and glimpsed at death and felt it fully, and experienced it in myself. The fleeting nature of everything, it was very hard to bear... but beautifull because it opened my heart seeing deeply with all my guts that the things around me come and go. Just yesterday I was working with music and after some time began to feel bored. "Can I find something valuble in this?", I know its not permanent, if i keep digging I will find its end. So I put on another beat and started groaning in agony, moaning about how time was moving soo slowww, and how nothing can fill this immense gap of boredom. I went into it deeply , and in this way I found the end of it, the light at the end of the tunnel, and I was so suprised, because my boredom soon became uproarous laughter, I was laughing my ass off!! Ill post my track it is pretty damn funny! Anyways encouraging to find this little jewel in yourself, that these "things" that we go through are very temporary and fleeting when you dont take them as permanent or reinforce them by creating your self around them. Not every experience we have is a joy, a bliss, no im not saying that. But things like anger, boredom, sadness, happiness, jealousy can become quite fun when you allow yourself to go into them , find ways to express them, and even learn to express them beatifully :). These negative things you encounter can be turned into creative energies.Just a little courage, trust, to experiment. Some laughter and non-seriouness with these things. But it is up to you, how daring are you? How willing are you to surrender these experiences, and empty yourself? How willing are you to exhaust your joys, sufferings, strengths and weaknesses?

The man you see next to me in my picture is an old poet named Khalil Gibran
He writes these beatifull lines-

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,

Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,

Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

He is speaking about living totally, not picking and choosing, but using all and everything. Far out am I right? Okay I am filled with energy and further intention to write but will lay this posting to rest

Peace my readers and fellow beings

You Are Vermin

2010-05-03T16:08:00.000-07:00

You slimy dirty thing, yes you recognize when I say it
Be very afraid because the boogy man is coming to get you, he always does
Not from under your bed, but from within you, how will you escape this?
HAHAHAHA
I am talking about the ego, YOUR EGO :O , yes it will eventually have to be stricken down and killed,
and it will need to be beaten with a stick many times before dieing. It is the ego in you that is afraid, always. It is afraid of the shiftless sands (the shiftless YOU), it cannot survive your glance. And it is always shaking. When you will become aware of it in yourself, when you just look at it, it is already starting to disappear. But wait, it begins to tell you great things, "no please! you have so much to live for, don't look at me! go and watch tv! chase woman! play guitar! MAKE FRIENDS WITH YOUR MOM!!" these are its very words. It will pull out all of its weapons, but this time you are not tricked, you dont even fight, you just watch it, listen to it, even laugh at it. It is afraid of you very much, your ego cannot survive in your presence. You are the boogy man! And it will not be long after looking at it to realize that you are tired of playing games FOR it. Its promises wont please you.

If I am not this ego, these strivings, desires, feelings, thoughts, ideas, than who am I?!? who the hell am I??

Eradicate Self Divine

2010-05-03T15:42:00.000-07:00

Temptress worthy to seek and receive me
Send this out from this heart that is seething
Precious is the pressure like a young baby teething

Should I add a picture , Should I sign my name
Poetic4existence is chilling in the rain
find me going up and out in and in staying inn
And the comfort is wonderful status quo sufficient
If you are in the world that I desire to leave in imprint
Im sending this to those who are willing to be free
And laugh a laugh dance a dance spend awhile with me
Im just a humble presence that is wishing you the best
Ill try to give you the best that I get, legit!
These crummy rhymes are just to transmit my thoughts
Your self is in my thoughts,, but not the one that you've bought

Tall Tales part 2

2010-04-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

This aisle five was the home to snacks popcorn and what would soon be recognized as the stores "most valuble item". Tim Kate and Sherran had rummaged through their own sections of the stores and were all deeply unsatisfied. Although each of them had chosen a cart over the smaller basket, they had remained very much empty. Tims dissapointment increased as he passed through deli, produce, and the dairy department without finding a solution to his growing hunger. Sherran groaned in dismay as the aisle numbers went from 15 to 14 to 13... Kate felt worse than both Tim and Sherran, in fact she was so unsatisfied with the stores selection that she had given up entirely. Her focus shifted from filling her stomach to filling that empty space in her heart, for she was now chatting with a mildly handsome bagboy. Meanwhile the search for that perfect item, the end all of hunger, continued. Tim,felling desprete,began to read Aisle 1 Peanuts and Olives, Aisle 2 Noodles and Sauce, Aisle 3 Parsley and Radishes, Aisle 4 Bagels and Pankake Syrup. AGHHHH Tim became very frustrated and even somewhat sick. Suddenly at the very moment of desperation, aisle 5 stuck out like a sore thumb to the both of them. "Whats this" it was not them that spoke, but thier stomachs. The slim lane of grocery convenience emanated a message to those with the hunger to hear it. Tim would be quickly to enter but soon paused, magnitized by the strange marking on the floor. It was the ultimate. The only marking that could make the guarentee. It was the end all of hunger! Tim looked around in amazement. "Am I the only one who can see this?" "I must be" Said Sherran at the other end of the aisle. "If the others here could, then why are they not staring at this very symbol??"

Tall Tales part 1

2010-04-27T10:36:00.001-07:00

Now, when one announces in capital letters of a greater font that tall tales will be presented, expectations are pretty high. Yet these are the type of tall tales that will create quite a different impression.
And so it began that a few years prior to this very date there were several townspeople. These people lived simple lives but concealed many a motive in their so to say "noodles". Now besides the fact of the three residing in similar circumstance of living, there was another "link" that "tied" these three together. Among their molehill of motives lied one that was particularly large. Quite large indeed. A motive like this unfulfilled is just the type that will fester into what you may call a "burning desire". And just as 3 logs of tender timber would quickly be consumed by an already burning blaze, likewise three of these abnormally large desires would, if met and merged, splatter upon the canvas of manifested existence. And fortunately for our appetite for the uncommon,this is exactly what occurred.
Tim Logger had found the keys to his car beneath the plain white recliner that he very often parked his rear end, and decided to refuel his refrigerator.
Kate Winslo meanwhile felt this same urge that is so common to the hungry stomach, and, bearing little mind to her already incomplete spring cleaning tasks, perched herself upon a prized 12 speed bicycle and pulled away to the nearest supermarket.
Sherran Doppledorf was panning fluids out of her jeep when that familiar grumble spoke to her louder than a cars engine purring for new oil. Realizing her attire was appropriate not only for automotive maintenance but also a springtime jog, she immediately slid out from beneath the behemoth and jogged straight out of her garage with intention of reaching the grocery mart.
Now I know what you must be thinking, all this hype about burning desires somewhat excited me, even to the point of restraining my own self from going to the fridge to chomp upon something sweet. Now are you telling me that this excitement was over the commonplace need to eat??
Now my readers... let us not be hasty. For it was only when the three townsfolk reached the supermarket that there real yearnings are revealed, and, can then be expounded upon. Although each of the three began shopping in different, somewhat opposite, areas of this supermarket it happened so that each of their paths intersected in the aisle known as "aisle five".

Simplicity

2010-04-27T10:26:00.001-07:00

Utter inward simplicity is remaining choiceless always. I dont try hard and choose because the momentum of life is too strong and to go agianst that would take too much work. No, I'd rather just be, weather it be lazy or not respectable, or whatever dimension you take me in. There is no driving force in this state it is just motiveless. I cant find a reason to continue my writing or to write in the first place, I mean what is there to write about? everyhing is so simple and obvious. Okay but obviously this is not 250 words of absurd but its pretty close. If your not sleeping yet than go see a physician.

Scary Kids Scaring Kids - What's Said is Done

2010-04-22T17:24:00.000-07:00

This song is really hitting me right now. Look it up on YouTube for the real song
O and dont worry, I am not depressed, fine actually, here is a smiley face just so you can be sure :D. :D

We watch these days go by
The seasons changed and faded away,
and the the things I've learned to love grow old and die
(no reason why, no reason why, no reason why, no reason why)
cause life's too short to spend alone in misery
Everybody seems to look the same
I feel so alone and now my head is bowed in shame again,
so I look to the heart of the devil for answers

This path is like a loaded gun
but what's said is done
you don't have to say a word

I'm so afraid to ask
I turn my back, block out the past
find me something true that isn't sad
I'm so afraid to ask
this solace never seems to last
I turn away as the sunshine fades to black

I spend my nights and days
Locked away there all the same
I don't know how much more I can take
(what's left to say, what's left to say, what's left to say, what's left to say)
cause life's too short to spend alone in misery

This path is like a loaded gun
but what's said is done
you don't have to say a word

This path is like a loaded gun
but what's said is done
you don't have to say a word

This path is like a loaded gun
but what's said is done
you don't have to say a word
to say a word, to say a word

I'm so afraid to ask
I turn my back, block out the past
find me something true that isn't sad

I'm so afraid to ask
this solace never seems to last
I turn away as the sunshine fades to black

I'm so afraid to ask
I turn my back, block out the past
find me something true that isn't sad

This path is like a loaded gun
but what's said is done
you don't have to say a word...

For a Friend

2010-04-16T13:44:00.000-07:00

My dear friend, the timing that we had was abrupt.
The times we spent were so quick to come, so quick to go, to leave, its left
Just a week ago you had something to show me, a simple story bout punching fists, gangs, the whollleee dragggg of life.
I remember looking deep and recognizing a spark in your eyes, a fun loving smile.

Now the melody you played casts pretty ripples of sorrow
And all your instruments have washed onto the other shore
so how are you doing now as a wave thats striding infinity?
you probably feel a little sad yet you smile from exploration
A wish for your well being from past confrontations, and past conversations, the pasts always waiting. . .
To put a vice on you and call you back to remember, pointing to a sky of better weather. Well remember that Decembers just a temporary thing. And all though I feel sad, man its good in a way. You were just one of the suns rays and I cast praise on the ways you interplayed in my days. Haha.
So lay back and be easy, its hard here but ill hold it down as the circle of existence spins round and we grow our roots into the ground just to get em plucked up. It might be fucked up but just silence the sound. As the sirens surround and the familys gather, the symmetry of simplicity is getting back at you.
Peace and Love

After spending time in the forest

2010-04-14T17:25:00.001-07:00

Mellow Exhalations give rise to modesty. You are in a green garden where the root chakra feels an affinity. A drop of dew is enough to parch your throat. Stone statues heed to on comers, shiftless in expression. A caterpillar bends and folds upon the leafs broad surface, the potted plant adjacent to the budding birch tree. What is it about this place that quiets the mind, and takes it all away? Wait, even that thought seems heavy. Patiently watching, the cloud passes and you are again with the sky. A smile forms in the corner of your lips, you giggle at thoughts quaint contradiction.

Your back finds comfort lying against the weathered rock, chiseled only by the soft seasons of nature. Resonating with its timeless wisdom, you no longer feel separate. A subtle communication forms with your surroundings. A large exhalation allows you to let go, you feel almost as a mirror. REFLECT. The birds flock and you are thankful for their presence. Someone to share this sweet poetry. Surely no writing is as beautiful.

It seems strange now, and even meaningless to analyze the acts of the past.

(ILL TRY TO WRITE MORE LATER, IN THE MEANTIME, RELAX :D)

Each Paragraph is Different

2010-04-13T10:41:00.000-07:00

It seems people have been preaching for longer lengths of time. The rhyme is prime when its not dropped off the line. I went into the system. Suction-cupped assimilate. Broken every boundary every barrier my mind design to be a carrier. Now different aspects play at once It feels a little tense. But in a single moment this aspect is a pretense. So.. SO.. So.. so the mission Sew. Cut. Lock Down... Look down then you stared up a simulated

Slow tides steady, calm cool ready, Cool hand Luke yet I'm slick sly Freddy. Let out a sigh ch yea stomach filled with spaghetti.
Feels whats the reason to continue when its rarely that your seen, trudging down the Allys in the dark? no? Picked up a little pebble but Ive cast away a stone. You can sharpen up your pencil till the point when your alone. Eyes of love,,, but its like yeah whatever man. Deny yourself the brilliance but whats true is in your hand. I fuel it feed it seems to take up my attention. Just letting it flow now and its been so long. The keyboard cracks laments its sad song. This sorrows gone.. . on long enough, hit the next song button its nothing.

Living on the cusp of danger, the presence of a stranger, suitcase slipped back wits cracked bangers. Wisdom gaps and the presence is felt. Its strange and insane and I'm needing some help. Next, day, NO DELAY. Its been awhile since living like this. I story told slightly off key. Never blossomed with the flowers rather be the bumble bee. But its all a simile for something you wont see. Carry it on to the next potentiality.

I was born in the soil and Ive germinated for longer than the most of the plants, they said I could dance. Budded from the soil took my first glance, o look there's the ants. At night the great darkness revealed its specks of white. Sometimes in the building phase, that seemed like never yielding phase, that CO2 breathing phase, that would last for days. The light, would reveal my new leaves. And this was victory, for a was a part that the earth could notice and see. Summer came and it rained and the plow sewed the grain. Nother winter fruitless plains, but my roots are more ingrained. Being fed by the earth, and its nectar gives me sight. Living as a plant, you know, you rarely pay the price. For the soil has no vice. And the breeze is carried light. White.. clouds in the sky, next the apple of the eyes, just a fragment do I see, but to me, infinity. Now I a stack and birds perch upon the limbs. Bluejays and Cardinals, the world we're living in. Nature Reflected, rejected, new perspective to be accepted and expected. Love live liberty of green. Got the corn hanging from my arms tomorrows just a dream, but crush it into cream, and eat enjoying all. Its not only for you, but its here for all .

BE CRAZY

2010-04-12T13:47:00.000-07:00

How the hell can you dance when you have an image of how dance is "supposed to be"?? How can you create something beautiful when beauty is a preconceived notion? Can you imagine an art gallery filled with copies of the same picture? How can you live spontaneously, flying on the wings of freedom if you limit yourself to your name and a few things you have done in the past?

You are alive!!

There is not a moment in life where you can stop and say "okay, now it is all figured out, I will go and lie in my coffin."
Life is a constant movement, a constant expression and learning, but how can you be moving, expressing, learning, when you constrict yourself to such a small portion of it? "I am Cindy Crawford, a democrat, and listen only to country music" "I will be polite, and never angry" "I will not smoke cigarettes." "I will go swimming three times a week from 10 to eleven a clock." You go on sticking labels to yourself, reinforcing them to make sure they do not peel off, saying they will make you smarter, prettier, better. Look you fool! your face is just full of stickers!

I WILL TELL YOU BE CRAZY! TAKE A RISK! Dont be afraid to look insane to others, and dont be afraid to look strange or stupid. Break from the all of those expectations that are crushing you! Dont hesitate to be total in your actions. Only when your actions are total will they reconnect you with life! Dont fight, but FIGHT. Dont scream, but SCREAM!! Let your dance be a frenzy, let your anger be a consuming flame!! Let your downtime be a deep meditation (haha) And last dont be afraid to completely disregard this article, hope I got to some of you!

What Made Them All Fall Down. (Class Prompt)

2010-04-08T10:53:00.000-07:00

Very abstract. What made them all fall down? and were they ever up in the first place? and to get back, how steep is the climb? Well if one were to refer to the New Testament then you could say the fall began when Eve ate the forbidden fruit and learned "the knowledge of good and evil". Or was the real fall when humpty dumpty was slick with crisco and made the fatal mistake to perch on a high wall? Is this prompt a forshadowing of a great fall of man into the clutches of the computer? The concern of man being outdone and even programmed by the computer is becoming more and more real everyday. Is it the fall of our attension from watching ourselves closely to losing ourselves in petty things?? Where are the steel boots that can trudge up the montains fallen off of? Dicks Sporting goods does not carry them. And whose will is strong enough to conquer these montains that span so far ahead of our sight. Surely climbing Everest will take less perserverance. The fall is great, and we have become small. Where can one find force that will fling us out of these problems, this growing conflict? If you were to ask me I wouldn't be able to say much, and I certainly can't make the climb for you. Your legs will grow weary, and your heart will ache for comfort. As you acsend the montains, your company will grow scarce and the path will stray into jagged rocks. You may reach their peaks, or you may fall off and break. Many times your mind will convince you that you have been rollin back down. It is even possible that the top of the montains are as barren and empty as the dark valleys below. I cannot tell you because I am still climbing, If I spot you below me I will throw down a rope, extend a hand, and point out the known path to the summit. This climb is yours alone, mine alone, yet it is shared between all of us.You must do all you can crying out "lord have mercy!!"

Thick Night

2010-04-07T17:34:00.000-07:00

You clutch the crutch whenever you stop and look
Because this wasn't the image you remember from those picture books
Again and again you feel cheated and mistook, by those smiling faces that are there just for looks

Its not easy to continue, somehow we find strength
So often forget that its there, in the world that doesn't care
You ask me what is the meaning? With thick lines in your face
Thick lines that get spit shined but never erased
So what is the meaning, I just have to know
Could you plant a seed for me? that I could sew?

Ill do what I can but the journey is yours
Only to lend a hand when your broken and sore
And to whisper that phrase, the one that's familiar
The caterpillar doesn't die but becomes a butterfly
The gray clouds grow thick and they cover the sky
and whats ahead is not easy Ill tell you no lie

But from the ashes rises phoenix, and rays penetrate the shroud
Just know that I'm watching from beyond the clouds
And my heart is left open when I see that your working
We will embrace later, backstage, when the show has closed curtains
Looking back with laughter at the trails gone through
Remembering all that we learned from this school

Right now we are here and it will remain so
Until you drop what you have and learn to let go

Introduction

2010-04-06T11:23:00.000-07:00

Okay so lets make this first post a spontaneous one. First Ill start with my name, the name my parents gave me is Matt Earley. Its a nice name, and will continue to use it, perhaps indefinitely. Seeing as I promised to post only things of value I will now move on to another subject. Okay so what is this guy all about? Lately he has been trying hard to improve communication and to give more to others. Last week it was something different, playing guitar perhaps? I do not stay the same for very long but currently find life challenging, rapid, enjoying, and overall worth living. Besides, what else do I have to do? On this blog I will be posting things relating to my life, some insights I have of myself and the world around and possibly some poetry . I'd like to welcome you to my blog and invite you to stay overnight, food will be provided later in the week. :) Thank you for reading and know that I am open to receive any of your questions or news. My email is listed on the side of the blog. Okay until the next post.